The Star Cross Lovers Die
by urly
Summary: The story starts with Peeta an Katniss about to take the nightlock berries and the Capitol reacts too slowly and they both die. Strangely enough that is not the end of the story. It takes some strange twist before the end. Ghost, monsters, hurt/comfort, romance and more.
1. The Berries

**BOOK One: Boy From The Ashes **

**Disclaimer**

This story was written for entertainment purposes only and no money was made. The characters contain within belong to Suzanne Collins and publisher.

**The Berries**

I was dying.

My right leg didn't hurt anymore; in fact, I couldn't feel it at all. My right shoe was red with blood, as was the grass all around me. I felt so cold and weak. My hands just wouldn't stop shaking, and I knew I would pass out soon. I fought to stay conscious, but not to stay alive.

For me to live, she had to die. Katniss had to die—that was how the game was played, and that was the choice in front of me.

Every thought I could muster had to be used to find a way to convince Katniss to kill me. If I had kept the knife, I could've feint an attack on her, and then maybe she'd react on instinct and just kill me. I don't know what I was thinking dropping it and telling her to shoot me—like that would work! I wasted a chance to save her because . . . because I love her and I wanted her to know it before I died. Now because of that vanity she couldn't kill me and live! She turned toward me and poured a small pile of nightlock berries into her hand; I moved closer to knock them out of her grasp.

She stopped me before I could make contact. "Trust me!" she said. She poured the berries in my hand, saving some for herself.

I stopped—one look into her eyes and I knew what she was thinking. I felt like I was in her head; I knew her thoughts. _Could she be right? Would they accept two victors if the only other choice was no victor?_ The decision was made as soon as she said "Trust me!" because I did trust her. I could feel in my soul that the die had been rolled—we would either live or die together.

I leaned over and gave her one last kiss. Her lips were so warm, and her breath on my cheek almost burned.

"Two . . ." I said, breaking the kiss. I raised the berries to my lips as slowly as I could.

Our mouths opened . . .

"Three," Katniss said. _My God, they are not going to stop us—we are going to die._ _Good-bye Katniss, my one and only love._

The berries tumbled into my mouth. Our eyes locked onto each other as it registered that we'd both done the unthinkable. I bit down, tasting the bitter berry juice on my tongue. I heard Claudius Templesmith blare out, "Stop! Stop! I present to you the winners of the 74th Hunger Games: the tributes from District 12, Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen!"

As the trumpets sounded and the crowds screamed, we fell together. I couldn't see—I was blind—but I could still feel Katniss as we tumbled to the ground. I used the last of my strength to pull her close, savoring her warmth one last time, and then it all went black.

I found myself floating in darkness. There was nothing there at all; I was totally alone. I floated and dreamed. There was no time to measure, nor was there any land to be found. I felt like I spent several lifetimes there, waiting for something that I did not know what. Slowly, I became aware of sounds, beeps of instruments and hum of lights. I felt the warmth and weight of a blanket on me. I was alive! I struggled to lift my eyelids.

"Peeta, don't open your eyes," Katniss said in my ear.

She's alive! "Katniss, what happened? I was sure we were dead! Are you okay?" _God, thank you! Thank you for bringing her back to me!_

"I'm okay, but please keep your eyes shut."

_What's happening? Are we still in the games? Are we in danger?_

"Why can't I see you?" I asked.

"Not now. Peeta, we are in a hospital below the Training Center. The doctors are working on you to make you healthy again." I felt her hand grab hold of mine. It was so warm and soft, it was a shock to my system. She moved her head so close to my face that I could feel her breath against my skin. I could smell her hair. Not the smell of the cave, but like before when she was healthy. I was so relieved that I couldn't help but start crying, tears rolling down my cheeks. Soon I heard her sobs and felt her tears on my face.

Once more I remembered how we tumbled to the ground. I remembered dying; we did die, didn't we? "Oh, Katniss, I was so afraid you died."

"It's okay, please, Peeta, it's okay. Don't cry anymore. You're making me cry too." She pressed her cheek to mine, and I felt her arms wrap around me, holding me tight. We stayed together like that for a while, until I stopped crying.

"Katniss, why don't you want me to see you?" I asked, still curious why she wouldn't let me. I wanted to see her face again so badly.

"Not now. Peeta, I'm afraid for my family. . . . Do you love me?"

_What is going on? I still don't understand any of this._ "You know I do."

"If you swear to take care of my family and protect them, I'll never leave you."

_She is making deals? Deals?_ "Katniss, there need be no deal. I'll protect them."

"Swear. Swear on your love for me," Katniss insisted.

"I swear."

"Then I swear I'll never leave you. It is done."

"Can I see you now?" I implored. _Will she tell me what is happing now? This is so weird; I can't see her, and deals? Where is this going?_

"No. I'm so tired. I need to sleep." I felt her lift the blanket off me and a cold chill rushed over my body. I felt her warm figure cuddle next to me. The smell of her body was such a comfort. Her hands lay on my chest and her fingers explored muscles there for a minute.

"Katniss, why don't you want me to see you?"

"Shh, let us just sleep for a while." The excitement of her being with me and her promise of staying with me had me so excited. I didn't think I would ever sleep again. For the longest time I lay there enjoying the feeling of her next to me, the rhythms of her breathing, the beating of her heart; this was my heaven. After a while her breathing began to deepen, and she cuddled even closer as she truly slept. A long time later I finally fell asleep too.

When I awoke, her warmth was gone. I reached around for her, unwilling to open my eyes, knowing she didn't want me to.

"Katniss, where are you?" I asked. I noticed there was something holding me in the bed, some kind of restraint.

"Katniss, where are you?" I repeated again and again with an increasing panic.

Finally I opened my eyes. I was in a large, round, well-lit room with many instruments and no apparent doors. I was on a bed in the middle with a wide restraint around the middle of my body, naked except for a sheet on top of me.

"Katniss, _where are you?_" I was now yelling, afraid of what had happened. _What could have happened?_

A door appeared in the wall and Haymitch entered through it. He looked almost as bad as the day we first met. He must have been drinking hard again.

"Hey, boy, how are you feeling?" Haymitch said through a fake smile.

"Not bad, but where is Katniss?"

"We will get to Katniss in a minute. I want to talk about you for a minute." He sat down on the bed next to me, but I was persistent. I wouldn't stop asking for her. I had a bad feeling about everything—something was very wrong.

"_Where is Katniss?_" My voice was rising.

"You were in pretty bad shape when they took you out of the arena. You almost didn't make it," Haymitch said with great concern.

I was getting annoyed. He was ignoring the question. "Here's an idea: Why don't you tell me where Katniss is?"

Haymitch looked up into the corner of the room. There must have been a camera there. A look came over Haymitch's face, one I didn't recognize: something dramatic. "Peeta . . . they couldn't . . . she's . . . Peeta, what is the last thing you remember?"

"We were in the arena, we took the berries, they declared us victors, I woke up here, Katniss came and talked to me, and then you came."

Haymitch's face went blank. "Katniss talked to you?"

"She was all worried about her family. I promised to protect them and I held her till I went to sleep."

Haymitch's face looked pained as he said softly, "Peeta, she didn't make it. She was dead before they even reached her." I was in shock. How was that possible? I talked to her. I mean, I didn't see her, but I heard her voice; I felt her body next to mine. He was lying. She wasn't dead!

"NO! NO! NO! She was here! I . . . I talked to her. I touched her! I could smell her. Hell, I still smell her on these sheets." What did they think they were doing, lying to me? Katniss was alive! My fear had become a killing rage. I was pulling against the restraint, and with the strength coming from my rage the restraint gave way. I rolled off the bed. I knew I was going to kill Haymitch. But instead I fell over to the right, and hard.

It was then that I noticed that my right leg ended with a knot of skin held together by some scary-looking stitches, a couple of inches below my right knee. All I could do was stare at what used to be my right leg while people rushed around me and stabbed me with needles, and then the world went black again.


	2. Picture of Katniss

**Picture of Katniss**

Most of the time they kept me asleep, but periodically they woke me and offered me food, trying to talk to me. I didn't eat and I didn't talk. I just sat there. I could hear the nurses whisper about me: "The poor boy has lost his mind." The hoses in my arm kept me alive and pumped in all kinds of weird drugs. With the drugs and no windows I lost track of time, not that it mattered. Nothing mattered anymore—nothing at all.

Sometimes the Avox girl showed up and tried to feed me; sometimes Haymitch and even Effie came by and tried to start a conversation with me. All the drugs they used made me feel so unusual—sometimes I couldn't stop laughing, sometimes I couldn't stop crying, but I never talked.

I was dead. I could feel it. I could remember the moment I died; in fact, I couldn't keep it out of my mind. Every minute or so I would relive the last seconds of my life, again reaching out blindly for Katniss, pulling her close, then black.

When people tried to talk to me I felt no compulsion to answer. When they asked how I felt I thought how silly the question was. Didn't they have anything better to do than ask a dead man how he _feels_? The drugs they pumped into me gave me all sorts of "feelings," but they didn't touch me. _How__ can they__?__ I am dead._

I remembered when I had feelings; I remembered my life perfectly. From the time I was so small I couldn't reach my mother's hand till now—I remember it all.

I remembered my first death. It was a little death, mind you: it was the death of hope. That occurred on the day I was reaped. Before I reached the stage my brain had gone through all the options, weighing my mind and strength against the arena and careers, and came to a perfectly logical conclusion: I was going to die. I had seen enough games to know how it worked; I was very strong and very smart, but it wouldn't be enough. I knew they were going to make me suffer, long and hard, and then make me die alone. My grandpa had taught me to never be limited to what people expect, so by the time I reached the car that took me to the train, I had a plan. I was going to kill myself. When we reached the train and I saw all the liquor I was ecstatic—I was going to drink myself to death. When they came to wake me up the next day, it would be too late.

Then I sat down next to Katniss, suddenly realizing how excited I was to be next to her. My infatuation with her was great, and even then at such a dire moment I wondered if she would let me hold her hand. She looked so determined. She looked at me like I was a piece of meat; that is, when I knew she could do it—she could be a victor. I knew she was prepared to kill every person—including me—who got between her and victory. So ended my first little death with a small rebirth. Yes, I was going to die, but if I added my strengths to Katniss' she would make it. I would have a victory: the Capitol would lose this one because they didn't even know what game I was playing.

After that everything worked so well. Yes, Haymitch thought I was the craziest man he had ever met, but he went along with it. Haymitch, Cinna, and I made a girl with the frostiest attitude possible without being a block of ice into a darling of the Capitol. Later I bullshitted my way into the careers and made them roam all over the arena, everywhere Katniss wasn't. When I fought Cato at the tree to save Katniss, I knew my part of the story was over. I went to hide somewhere and die; I had done all I could for Katniss. That was my second small death. But then through some miracle, she and I got together. I felt God's hand in this—how else was I to explain it?

The girl I was trying to save then saved my life three times, showing me how much she could care. When I was a little boy she had been the cutest girl ever, and I loved her. After her father's death, she was the strongest person I could imagine. She became like the big green mountains that surround district 12, a beautiful force of nature. When I entered the arena she was going to be my vengeance. Now she was my flesh. I would call her my sister, but that isn't right. It may be awkward, but she was my brother, my brother-in-arms. If all the armies of the Capitol came down on us, and she said, "Stand your ground!" I would stand my ground without question. So when the Capitol changed its mind and wanted one of us to die, I was more than ready: I had prepared myself from reaping day till now. Katniss' last bluff spoiled my plans. She had stolen from me my one chance at something I could call victory, but even more she had killed both the girl I loved and my brother-in-arms.

_So now I sit here and do nothing, for you see__,__ I am dead._

They fitted me with some weird mechanical leg. I could move the ankle, just like a real ankle, and I did that for a while. Looking at the stump which used to be my leg was so unreal; a living person would feel something, some emotion, but not me.

They wanted me to try walking, but I refused.

Then one day Haymitch came to my room. He came to my bed and unhooked my restraints. I sat up on the bed, confused at his intentions.

Haymitch visibly gathered himself up to tower over me. "Well, boy, you have decided life isn't worth living. It took you long enough to figure that out. But while you sit there feeling sorry for yourself, I thought I would come and see how much more miserable I could make you. You know, twenty-three people died terrible deaths in that arena, and they all wanted to live. And the only asshole to make it out doesn't want to live at all. I'll bet they're all getting a laugh at that.

"Or how about this one: a boy falls madly in love with a girl who couldn't care less and whose only thought is getting home to her sister so she won't starve. I hope you knew that every time she kissed you, I got some poor sap to pay for another parachute, because _she_knew that.

"I bet you thought if you both survived she would marry you. You would have a dozen rug rats and live happily ever after. She never told you she never planned to marry and she _definitely_ never planned to have any children. Romantic love just didn't register with her. Face it, kid, she owed you a debt, and that was your big hold on her. Yeah, you're right, kid—life _sucks_."

In a moment I was on my feet ready to fight. I was in a blind rage and wanted to crush Haymitch's skull. He had found every raw nerve in my body and stroked them with flame. I started falling over again and again as I tried landing a punch on Haymitch. Each time I felt terrible pain spring up from my leg. I just didn't know how to work my new limb. I should have felt humiliated by my performance. I should have felt frustrated at my ineptitude, but all I felt was rage. How dare he awake me from my death, bring me back to life, and make me face the truth!

"Hey, boy, maybe if you practiced once in a while with that leg I might be in some kind of danger right about now," Haymitch said as he easily dodged my attacks.

As the pain from my leg started to overcome my rage, I began to feel all the pain I had been suppressing from my heart. Haymitch had found every insecurity and real fear I had with the precision of a surgeon. "You're wrong! You're dead wrong! She may not have known her own feelings well, but she loved me—she did!"

"Maybe she did, but she's gone now!" Haymitch yelled, his face distorted with sadness. With that last verbal blow I lost all my steam and fell to the floor. I just cried my eyes out. Haymitch sat next to me, put his arm around me, and pulled a bottle from his vest. We both sat there sharing the bottle. The whiskey burned my throat badly, but I didn't care.

"Why am I alive?" I whispered.

"I don't know, kid. Hell, I never figured out why I'm alive," Haymitch mumbled with a despair that almost matched mine. He missed her too. When the bottle was empty he picked me up and helped me back into my bed.

"Boy, I have been a mentor for twenty-four games and led forty-seven great kids to their deaths. You're right—life sucks. But boy, you are my first . . . my first success. You are going to live or I'm going to kill you," Haymitch said with no sign of irony. He left, and his words rang in my ears until I understood that it was an offer, not a threat. He wanted me to know I had a way out, if I wanted it. I wondered how many times he had dreamed of having one himself.

My night was full of dreams. I dreamt of Katniss. I relived every moment I knew her, every word and every motion of her face. When I got to the part where she took the berries, there were two of me standing before Katniss. One Peeta was about to take the fruit, and the other Peeta yelled at the first, "Don't let her do it!"

As I awoke, I rolled over. They hadn't redone the restraint. My arm touched a belly. I felt it rise and fall slowly. I heard someone breathe, and I smelled Katniss's hair. I lay perfectly still, scared that anything I did might break the spell. I was crazy, but I didn't care. After a long time I couldn't help myself: my hand started to wander. I felt her little slot of a belly button. My hand moved up to feel her floating ribs, and I started counting them.

"You know I'm awake," Katniss said. As my hand shot back to my side I pushed my eyes shut, afraid that I'd open them and that would somehow break the spell, but I wanted to see her so badly.

"Sorry, can I open my eyes?"

"No, please don't," Katniss replied.

"You're just in my head, aren't you?" I asked. It wasn't much of a question. I wanted to believe she was real, that she was here with me, but what Haymitch had told me had changed everything. My rational mind knew she wasn't real, and she didn't want me to open my eyes to see nothing and prove it, but my rational mind was in a lopsided battle with my soul, and it was bound to lose.

She grabbed my hand, laying it on her breast. It was so impossibly soft, but colder than the rest of her, almost chilled. And in the middle of the breast was a little rock-hard nipple, slowly moving up and down with each breath.

"Katniss, how is this possible? You . . . you aren't here."

"I don't know. But Peeta, I need you to believe in me, _please_. Listen, Peeta, I can prove I am who I say I am. Ask someone about when you killed the girl from District 8 by the campfire. I was there and you didn't know that."

"You saw that?" I said suddenly, ashamed of her seeing me murder. I had killed people! I was a murderer and would be one for the rest of my life, and everyone knew it! The thought of the people I love, especially her, seeing that was almost unbearable.

"I was in a tree right above your heads," Katniss answered.

"Why can't I see you?" I asked abruptly.

"I may still be Katniss, but I'm different. I guess I'm technically not human anymore, but I'm still Katniss." It almost sounded like a question. _She really doesn't know what she is?_

"Did you hear what Haymitch said to me?"

Katniss rolled away; I wasn't touching her anymore. I could feel her lying on her side on the edge of the bed.

"He said you had faked it," I continued. "He said you didn't love me, that it all was for the cameras." I didn't want to know the answer, so I'm not sure why I asked. I just had nowhere to hide anymore, I guess.

Katniss' voice cracked as she answered. "Peeta, what do you want from me? I didn't just offer everything for you—I gave it all. I don't know anything about love. I don't know _how_ to love. Every ounce of my being has been given to keep my family alive; I would do anything to protect them, anything! But in the end, I had a choice to make, and I chose to risk them for you. And Peeta, remember: I've promised to stay with you forever. What would you call it when someone gives all and promises to stay forever?"

"Love, I guess." We just lay there, not talking for the longest time. In my heart I knew she loved me, even if she didn't realize it, but it hurt to think she didn't feel the same romantic way about me.

I recognized mine for her.

I reached deep inside myself and said, "If we both had survived, you wouldn't have married me, would you?"

She paused. "No. Haymitch was right. I had already decided never to marry or have children, but Peeta, you and I would always be together in one form or another. Maybe we would be lovers. I'm certain we would be friends, and I would never suffer you any harm." I could hear her crying, but we had both run out of words. After a while, I rolled over and cuddled her. I felt her body jerk as she sobbed. I held her hand and pushed my pillow under her head.

"Please, don't cry anymore," I said.

"Peeta, you need to get out of here. You promised to protect my family. You can't stay here."

"They think I'm crazy because I talk to a dead girl."

"Peeta, it is still just a game. Remember, if you don't play along our families will suffer! Please, Peeta, just play along, okay?"

I made my peace with my insanity and said, "Okay, I will. I'll do my best sane-person impersonation, but I want to see you."

"Peeta, you're a good artist, right? I'll tell you what: I'll pose for you tonight, late tonight."

We lay there and for a long time and just talked. She told me the true story of Prim and Lady. I told her about how the star-crossed lover bit was my idea, and how Haymitch almost choked to death when I told him what I wanted to do.

Next thing I knew, the Avox girl was trying to wake me. She had a bowl of soup in her hands. Katniss was gone, like she was never there, and I guess that was right. Maybe she was just in my head, but it was _Katniss_ in my head, not some imaginary part of me. I ate the soup and smiled at the Avox. It was time I started the biggest act I have ever performed: acting normal. The Avox girl looked at me for the first time like I was crazy. All those days I wouldn't eat or talk, she accepted me; to her that was normal. Now she thought I was crazy. I hoped I could fool the doctors.

After that I started talking to the doctors and asking for food. Later I asked them to help me practice with my new leg. For the first time I saw the ugly stump of a thing as part of me. I felt like crying, but didn't; I needed to look ready to go home. The nurses and doctors seemed content, and I even joked a little with them. In Panem everyone must be two-faced, but I was going to be the grand master of two-faces.

After the exercises, I pretended to take a nap, and I silently prayed for a half-hour. I knew I had to hide all my negative emotions from the doctors and nurses. From here on out, every visible action must be of a sane person. In my prayers I raged against God: I told him how sadistic He had been to me, how I hated Him. Every time I said that to Him, an image of Katniss pulling me from my hiding spot would appear in my mind. That moment had been and still is the most beautiful moment I have ever had. He had not said a word, but He won the argument.

An hour later I asked one of the doctors for charcoals and a large pad of drawing paper, to give me something to do. When he came back I drew a picture of him, and then I drew all the nurses. They all got a kick out of it, but I was really practicing to draw Katniss. I couldn't wait to see Katniss!

Then a nurse came by and turned out the lights. I felt so excited. Katniss had only appeared when I was about to wake up, so I tried to get some sleep. But how could I when I was so eager? Lying there in the dark, I argued with myself.

Part of me said Katniss must have been a dream or an illusion. She was just part of me, but I couldn't convince myself. I lay there counting and counting until I finally fell asleep somewhere above 900.

I woke with a start. The room was deep black and I could only see a few blinking lights from the instruments. I could feel someone moving around in my room, something moving in front of the lights.

"Katniss, is that you?" I asked, but there was no reply. I could feel a cool breeze on my back and I shivered. When I gazed into the dark, I could barely make out two eyes looking back. Slowly, I could distinguish a face behind the eyes.

"Hi, Peeta. Are you ready to draw me?" Katniss' voice seemed to drift across the room.

"My God, I'd forgotten how beautiful you are."

Katniss did a small roll of her eyes. "Peeta, you're always trying to sweet-talk me. Just draw my picture." I really couldn't see what she was wearing—only her face was in sight. I pulled over what I guessed was a heart monitor and used its feeble light to see the charcoals and paper. I started drawing immediately.

"You never trusted me, did you? You always thought what I said was a trap, didn't you?" I said as my hands carefully started drawing.

"Yes, at first. Well, I guess for a long time I felt that way. I certainly didn't believe you loved me from the time you were five years old."

"But you believe me now, right?"

"Yes, Peeta, I finally see you as you really are." We talked for hours as I worked on my drawing. When morning came I found I had fallen asleep, but the picture was done. Looking at the picture, I couldn't believe the work of art I had created. It was more exquisite than anything I had ever done. Katniss in the picture wasn't the starving girl I knew in the cave, but the healthy girl I knew before. She seemed so strong, intelligent, and determined—the woman I fell in love with.


	3. Crowning the Victors

**Crowning the Victors**

**The story so far:**

Peeta is a Victor, but the doctors tell him he lost his leg to an infection. They say he lost Katniss to nightlock poison and that he lost his mind to grief. On the other hand, doctors won't tell him how they saved him from an incurable poison, which should have fried his brain, or why they couldn't do the same for Katniss. The Katniss only Peeta can see or hear says they all are lying.

Peeta doesn't know if he is sane or not, or what really happened, but he knows what he is going to do. Peeta is going to take on the whole Panem and protect Katniss' family, just like he promised Katniss he would. Panem doesn't know it yet, but an old evil has returned, and they are all in danger.

**Crowning the Victors**

Over the course of the next few days I looked so normal it was scary. I still needed a cane, but I was getting around pretty well. I told the doctors I knew Katniss was dead, and while I was still very sad, I knew I would survive. They all seemed very pleased with me and my efforts to recover.

I sucked down all my pain and fear. I needed to fool those people, and I knew I could do it. Sometimes I would fake a nap and just lie there praying for the strength to keep anything from showing. My hand would constantly feel my stump as I prayed, giving away that fact that I wasn't really asleep, but I couldn't stop. My leg, my poor leg.

A small part of Katniss had come back to me, and I was determined to stick to my bargain with her. I knew at some point I would break down; I could not do it forever, but I could do it long enough.

Soon the day for the ceremony had arrived, and Portia showed up with a black suit for me. It was really a lovely suit. I was so glad that it was a somber color that fit my mood and didn't force me to act like things were normal. In keeping with the fire theme, it had some marvelous sheen on it that flashed yellow and red in direct light.

My crew, along with Portia, went to the training area and caught an elevator leading to the penthouse. The whole place seemed empty—no guards, no trainers, and no tributes. In the penthouse they prepared me. After I put on my suit, I sneaked into Katniss' old room and just looked around, only to find there was nothing of hers left.

We went to the stadium for the Victory Ceremony. As I walked down the long, dark hall underneath the stage, I could hear the roaring of the crowd.

At the end of the hall, Haymitch was waiting for me. His face changed when he saw the somber expression on my face, and he knew I was in no mood for an upbeat message.

Haymitch took my shoulders and said, "Peeta, you gave it your all. You held nothing back, and the fact that Katniss didn't make it is not your fault. Don't become like me. Don't let your losses haunt you. I'm sure Katniss would have liked to think your knowing her somehow made you stronger."

"Katniss did make me stronger. I know you're worried about me and you think I've become unhinged, but that's not the case. Remember: I was one of the weakest to enter the arena. I was the one who knew he wouldn't make it, yet here I stand. I survived over them all because I wasn't thinking of myself. I was driven by love, and that is much stronger than fear."

Haymitch grabbed me and whispered in my ear, "Peeta, you and Katniss have become some kind of fascination with the people, and the president doesn't like it. I'm not sure what you should do, but be on your guard, okay?"

Instead of letting go, he paused for a long time, then added, "Peeta, you should know . . . they operated on your brain. When I first saw you, you still had the scars. I'm not sure what they did, but all your original doctors are dead now. One of the nurses told me that what they did to save you was illegal, but she didn't say what it was." He let go of me, turned, and went down the hall. He didn't want to give me a chance to say anything.

Above me I could hear the anthem playing and Caesar greeting the crowds. I searched the dark corners of the hall, half expecting Katniss' gray eyes to peer out. Then I heard my prep team being announced and the roaring of the crowd. I had a nervous feeling, and in my head I called for Katniss to come.

Then Effie was announced and the crowd's chanting grew even louder._Please, Katniss, I need you with me. This is going to be so hard_. I heard them call Haymitch, and the crowd stomped and screamed, positively shaking my bones. A speaker in the hall told me to prepare, so I centered myself on the elevator.

My knees were shaking, and I leaned even harder on my cane.

The elevator started up, and I thought I would vomit. It broke through the trap doors onto the set, where Caesar shouted my name. The crowd went wild. It was a bright summer's day, and the huge mob stretched out before the stage.

There were so many people, thousands just lining up from the stage back. As I took my first step, one lone dark cloud moved over the sun, blackening the stage. Between my shaking knees and nausea, I moved slowly, leaning hard on my cane. To those in the audience I must have looked like an old man. My jet-black suit made it hard to see, but every time a light hit the fabric, great licks of red and yellow fire jumped across the suit.

As I hobbled across the stage, the clapping began to dissipate. I missed the mark where I should have turned to sit and walked slowly to the very edge of the stage. I stared out over the crowd, partially expecting to see Katniss in the crowd. I scanned the faces, and they just stopped cheering. I finally turned around and sat in my chair just as the cloud passed and once again the day was luminous.

Though it was not on purpose, I knew from then on the whole day, which Snow meant to be a celebration, was going to be a wake. When they began the review tape I knew I was in for three hours of pure pain.

They started at the beginning with the reaping, the parade, and the training. Every tribute received some screen time, but Katniss and I had the lion's share. For the first time I saw all that Katniss went through before the rules changed, and sure enough there she was in the tree when I killed the girl from District 8.

Maybe I was not so crazy after all. I also saw how I tried to mislead the careers about Katniss' abilities and strategy, me fighting Cato to protect Katniss, and my retreat to the river. So even though I was the Victor, my own story kept pointing back at Katniss. She became the center of the story.

Watching Katniss and Rue join together was very hard, because I knew how it would end. Rue really had been a beautiful child. I had to say, watching the explosion that destroyed the Careers' supplies was the best part, and got a lot of crowd applause. When we arrived at Rue's death and Katniss' beautification of the body, I was so proud of Katniss that it almost overcame the sadness of the moment. The crowd got noticeably quiet during that whole section.

The cave scenes were next, which brought back so many memories. I had to fight not to cry. When I saw what Katniss had to go through to get me the medicine, I really thought I was about to lose it.

When Cato died, the filmmaker did something new, something radical—he started cutting away to groups of people in the city. From there, the screen split with random groups of people on one side and our story on the other. For the first time, I saw the sheer joy many had when it seemed we had won. People were hugging one another, and all the young girls were crying.

And then they showed the rule change, and you could see everyone stop, as if the whole city was holding its breath. I couldn't believe the government allowed those images, and I became concerned for the life of the film's editor. It was almost over when the most anguishing part came. The crowd was noticeably quiet when we relived the last moments of Katniss' existence.

When it showed us putting the berries in our mouths, it appeared as if the city was screaming at their screens. Claudius announced us both as the winners. We fell together, tainted by the berries' poison, and you could see as I pulled her close. We ended up looking like we were just spooning each other on the ground, both obviously dead.

They came to retrieve our bodies, and the doctors were shown in the shuttle, working on our bodies. Katniss and I were on two beds, side by side, as dozens of doctors buzzed around us.

You could see the head doctor's mouth and read his lips as he said, "I'm calling it. At 11:22 they are both dead." Claudius announced our deaths. The screen went blank, and on our side there were a series of images of people just staring at their screens in terrified shock.

Then Claudius came on the screen and announced, "Peeta Mellark is alive and is the 74th annual Hunger Games Victor!" I had never seen anything like it. I didn't think anyone had. I was dead . . . I was dead for something like an hour. What happened in that hour?

_Katniss, where are you? Why did you let me go through this alone? I feel so alone up here._

When I stood up at the end of the film, the whole crowd rose with me. The anthem sounded again, and from behind the stage came President Snow, followed by a small girl with a crown on a pillow. He greeted the crowd and placed the crown on my head; I couldn't help but notice the anger lingering throughout his expression.

As he looked into my eyes he saw something—I didn't know what, but suddenly I could see his fear as he almost stumbled back. He presented me to the crowd and as quickly as possible left the stage.

I knew from President Snow's actions that I would need allies. I would need to use every bit of my charm and every bit of the people's sympathy to get through it. If I was going to protect the Everdeen family, I would have to make the option of attacking me politically impossible.

Maybe if I acted strong enough he would seek me out as an ally. We would see. I'd come up with a terrible scheme: I would have to manipulate the people's better feelings and convert Katniss from a person into a symbol.

After the show I asked for Effie to get my picture of Katniss, and with it in hand we went to the presidential mansion for the Victor's Banquet. At the banquet everyone wanted to talk to me and get their picture with the new Victor, as they do every year. But unlike every other year, they also gave their condolences. It all had the air of a funeral.

I did the best I could to work the crowd and charm whomever I encountered. Effie knew most of the people and gave insight, but her idea of important and mine did not agree. So I depended on my own instincts most of the time. My grandfather—and to a lesser extent my grandmother—had taught me how to read people. They taught me to watch the body language and eyes to find the deeper meaning in every conversation. People of equal rank walked all over each other's conversation and ignored each other's eyes. People with superiors always looked into their eyes before beginning, and didn't interrupt. When in doubt, just ask one person about the other; their reaction would tell it all.

Most of the people came and went, but a group of women formed that just hung around me. In the group I discerned two different types: those who were mourning Katniss and who really wanted to have her bravery and determination, and those whose hearts broke for the star-crossed lover survivor. It was also obvious that many of them thought my story was so romantic they couldn't resist me. The hunger in some of their faces was disturbing. I hoped I wouldn't have to play that card.

Eventually I met Livia Stone, who seemed to be the pinnacle of society from the others' reaction to her. She was an elderly woman in a dark purple dress, so dark it almost looked black. We began conversing about art, of which she was an obvious admirer and a major patron.

I brought out my picture of Katniss and shared it with her. She fell all over herself to praise it; she offered to set up a show for my artwork whenever I was ready. Livia sent her servant to get a frame for the picture and a stand.

As soon as the picture was up, people started gathering around it. Without any planning or forethought, things began to happen. People started placing flowers all around the picture, and someone got a big piece of cardboard and placed it next to the picture. People began writing small notes on it. Some of the notes were simple condolences; others were notes of their favorite memory of Katniss. Many mentioned her bravery in the reaping and in the game. Some talked of her beauty in the parade and interview.

When I finally told Effie I was too tired to continue, the sun had just risen below the horizon. In just a couple of hours we would be preparing for the interview with Caesar.

Katniss had not made an appearance all day, and I began to wonder if something was wrong, or if something was somehow right. Maybe I was under some kind of delusion, and it suddenly disappeared. But if it was a delusion, it was one hell of a delusion.

We returned to the 12th floor of the Training Center just one last time. I told Effie I wished to sleep only a couple of hours and I that I wanted to sleep in Katniss' old bed. Effie's eyes watered, and she embraced me.

Then, she handed me Katniss' Mockingjay pin. "I was going to take this back to Katniss' family, but I think it would be better if you gave it to them."

"Thanks, it . . . well, thanks."

I went into Katniss' old bedroom, holding the pin tightly in one hand, and lay down in the dark.

"Please, Katniss, please talk to me," I whispered to the room. I needed to fall asleep. I lay there as still as possible, counting in my head. Many hours later, Effie came in to tell me we needed to prepare for the interview.

I hadn't slept at all.


	4. Render on to Caesar

**Render on to Caesar**

Between two towering mountains and through a valley of the tall silvery towers of the Capitol City, the first rays of the sun streamed though Katniss' Training Center's window. The huge towers of the city spoke of wealth and promised to contain a vibrant _civilization_, and the mountains told of the natural beauty of the world. The city was a great work of art, but its image in my mind was forever tainted by the cruelty of its people.

On the other hand, the mountains beckoned to me. I found the thought disturbing, because I knew it came from a part of me that just wanted to escape, to forget the Games, to forget Katniss. I sat there on her bed and allowed those selfish thoughts to wash over me. I could go back home to be rich and famous, at least by District 12 standards. I could ask for and get almost anything I wanted. I pictured myself with some nameless wife and family, in one of those grand Victor's Village homes. My family would never feel the want of others in the district until they came of age. That thought "until they came of age" stopped the whole daydream. No, there was no simple, happy ending for me, not now, not ever.

I gathered all my mental strength and said, "Well, time for the show," to the empty room. I start plotting what I wanted to say on camera as I took a bath. I wanted a shower, but my leg was too tricky to manage. The doctors and nurses were impressed with what I accomplished in just a couple of days, but they told me to expect months of work to get the leg good enough to pass as real. They gave me some videos and a schedule of exercises that stretched out over eighteen months.

Soon my crew busted in on my bath and started laying out clothes and makeup. They allowed me no privacy, just like they did before the Games. I never got upset over being naked with them before, but with my stump it just didn't feel right having them here. Again my stylist Portia anticipated my mood and brought dark, somber colors. The suit itself was black, but it had a bright red tie, whose shape and color suggested a flame. In her hand she had a cane. The cane's body was a dark wood, and I instantly said with a laugh, "Mahogany!" None of them laughed at the joke; they didn't get it. It was capped with a golden crown-shaped cradle nestling a bright marble ball as a handhold. The ball's smooth, cool surface almost gravitated into my hand. On one side on the golden cradle a beautiful girl's face stared out. I knew the face: it was Katniss'.

The cane made me think of Grandpa—he had an old oak cane the whole time I knew him. I so wished he was with me. He was the wisest person I ever knew, even a little wiser maybe than Grandma. I could picture him again with his white hair and his kind blue eyes. As a little kid, he and I would walk all over the village, and he always seemed to know everyone. He knew their names, their stories, and what made them tick. He explained so much to me about the history of Panem, about District 12, and about people. Through him I learned to understand my mother, and the fears that drove kindness out of her. _What would he think of me and Katniss? What would he say to me now?_ Did he not say to "Hold on to the ones you love—don't even let death separate you from them. Love will make you strong enough to do what you have to do."

I lifted my face and gave a generous smile. "Thanks, Portia, it's a wonderful cane."

"It was sent to me by a fan that made it for you by hand," she said as she pointed to some writing engraved under Katniss' face. I almost dropped the cane in shock as I read "Thanks to the man who showed us all such a great love. She still lives." I forced a sneeze to give myself a second to recover. Surely the person who wrote it meant it to be taken in a metaphorical way, but still it struck too close to home. _Where is she? She hasn't talked to me for days now._

In our living room I saw the technicians set up for the interview: a half dozen were busy arranging the furniture and lights. Haymitch was there, though he didn't look well—he'd been drinking too much.

A young woman with neon-red hair and a silver jumpsuit came over. "Hello, Mr. Haymitch, congratulations on your Victor," and said to me, "Hi, I'm Aemilla, Caesar's assistant. I am such a fan of you and Katniss; I really want to help you have a good interview. Is there anything you need?" As she said this she grabbed my free hand and held it. Her concern and concentration was so well polished from years of practice that I had a hard time determining how sincere it was.

Haymitch injected, "Peeta has been through a lot. I'm going to need your people to treat him gently."

"Of course!" Aemilla responded, still holding my hand. "Peeta, you have to know that your story has affected everyone very deeply—it is beyond anything I have seen before. I can tell you that Caesar and I both cried our eyes out at the Game's end. Just tell us what you want to say and we will make room for it."

I concluded that she was truly concerned and laid out for her what I wanted to say. Haymitch listened carefully but said nothing. I knew he was still judging me, still thinking I was just going to go bonkers on him at any minute, but I never broke character. I was playing the part of a sane but very injured Victor, and I was determined that no one would ever know how crazy I was. _Where are you, Katniss? Why don't you support me now?_

I held my picture of Katniss in its new frame and set it down by the chair that I was to sit in. Caesar soon came by to shake my hand and he sat in the other chair. The director started his countdown; the camera's lights came on.

"Peeta, I think I can truly speak for the whole of Panem when I both congratulate you for winning and send our condolences for your loss," Caesar began.

"Thanks, Caesar. So many people have said the same thing to me in the last couple of days, and I would like to publicly thank them all here, if you don't mind."

Caesar laid his hand on my arm. "I think everyone in Panem wants to know first how you are faring."

"I have been and will always be deeply wounded, and I don't believe these wounds will ever truly heal," I said, intensifying my emotions to add to the somber mood. "What I don't think everyone understands is that wounds can help you, make you stronger, wiser, more determined. I have now inherited Katniss' strength; I suspect many people will be astonished by how she has improved me."

"I was told that you have something you want to show me," Caesar prompted gently.

I pulled out Katniss' picture and gave it to him, who then turned it toward the camera. The effects on Caesar were dramatic: his eyes turned red and watery and seemed to be on the verge of tears. "Wow, this is Katniss as I remember her, as I think we all remember her, as she was on my show just weeks ago. You did this while you were in the hospital, from memory?"

"Yes, it was the first thing I wanted to do. I just . . . had to see her again."

Caesar called for a glass of water, and the makeup people tried to rush in and fix his running eyeliner, but he shooed them away. Someone brought forth a stand for the picture, so Katniss' portrait spent the rest of the interview between us.

Once he regained his composure, Caesar continued, "A lot of people in Panem were confused by the end of the Game—first one Victor, then they announced two Victors, then there were no Victors, then they announced you as the final Victor. Panem has never seen anything like it. And there was that whole thing about you being dead for an hour. Can you help us explain any of that?"

"Not really, but I can tell you there was a great battle of wills going on," I admitted in all honesty. "On one side I was willing Katniss to live, and on the other Katniss was willing me to live. Katniss, I'm afraid, always wins."

The rest of the interview went well. We spent a lot of the time talking about what Katniss did and how special she was, which was just what I wanted.

When we talked about me we talked about how hard I had worked to keep her alive. I came off as a saint and Katniss as a modern Joan of Arc. It was amazing. The only disappointment was my thinking about the people who really knew Katniss and them watching this, feeling her memory being used for cheap entertainment, which it was.

I just hoped the Everdeen family understood why I was going through with it.


	5. Marcus's War

**Marcus's War**

Far away in a fortress, hidden beneath a ruined city, an army prepared for another war. Some of its soldiers were already fighting in the districts and even the Capitol in a secret war of spies and saboteurs. One of District 13's star spies was Marcus Lef, who was home for a while recovering from his last mission.

Marcus sat at a desk reading a seemingly endless list of reports. He had one leg in a cast propped up on another chair. Marcus looked every bit a member of a ruling class, from his bright blue eyes, noble sharp nose, and dark widow's peak to his hollow cheeks. He came by his looks, honestly: his mother had been a Lucien, one of the founding families of Panem. The Luciens had previous presidents in their line, but when they opposed the rise of Snow they doomed themselves. Marcus' mother and father somehow managed to stay alive long enough to get him to adulthood in the Capitol. When they were finally arrested he had to escape to District 13. District 13 depended on exiles like him for their spying, people who knew how to fit in with a crowd in the Capitol and knew important people who might help undermine the government.

The office he worked in was dimly lit. It had nine empty dull gray desks along with the ones Marcus worked at. The room had no windows, the same as all the other rooms in District 13. It was very quiet and cold in the office; Marcus hated every inch of the room and every minute he was in it, but he was a good soldier and never complained.

Now he was playing analyst and going through all the field reports, looking for patterns and clues, anything useful others had missed when they read the reports. It was a long and boring job; ninety-eight percent of everything he read led nowhere, but he was okay with it, if his leg would just stop itching. He had been working for thirteen hours, determined that he would find something the others had missed, but so far nothing.

On his desk was a group picture of his graduation class from the District 13 intelligence school. Marcus was in the front row, right in the center, because he was first in the class. In the picture, the tall, blonde beauty Sarah, the second in class, was on his left—she had stolen every boy's heart in the school, but jumped out a window to avoid being captured six months after graduation. On Marcus's right was the class third, Julius, the greatest wit Marcus had ever known; he would have been first in class if he could've stopped making fun of the teachers; Peacekeepers blew his brains out two years ago. Half of all the people in the picture, and most of the people he considered friends, were dead. The Capitol was just getting too good at finding agents. If it wasn't for a jump from a moving train, and the breaking of his leg, he would have already been dead, too.

Marcus's leg itched—it itched something terrible. He was trying to get a pencil down the side of the cast when he lost his grip. Now he had to find a way to get the pencil out!

At some point while trying to dig out the pencil, he got the feeling he was being watched; he looked up to see the huge dog-faced Major Clemens looking down at him, perplexed. Major Clemens looked angry, but then again, he always looked angry.

"I have some work for you. You are a history buff, right?" Major Clemens said with a sneer.

As he tried to stand up and salute, Marcus said, "Yes, sir, I have a Master's in history." His plan was always to be a history professor, which is why he graduated from the Capitol University years earlier than was supposed to be possible. Life never happens like you think it will.

By this time most majors would have his butt in a sling, but he knew Major Clemens, and he didn't care much for formalities if you could get the job done.

"What do you know about the war at the end of the world?" Clemens said as he bent over and pulled the pencil out of Marcus's cast, giving it back with a frown. Marcus was puzzled by the reference to that ancient—_nearly mythical_—war that destroyed the old world with all its peoples and wonders.

_Good, he must have something better than paperwork for me,_ Marcus thought before saying, "My thesis was on the battle for Atlanta."

"At ease," the major said as he pushed Marcus back into his chair. "Our agents in the Capitol just filed a report saying that some Capitol doctor has reinvented a monster from the old world."

"A monster?" Marcus stared, confused at the strange look on the major's face.

"I hope this is nothing, but I want you to run it down." His voice said much more than his words: he was scared of something, but what?

"What kind of monster?" Marcus asked. "One of Snow's mutants? What did he do now—cross a lion and a viper, or something like that?"

"No, we are talking about what my grandmother used to scare kids to bed with. It may not be their official name, but she called them _banshees_. God help us."

The cold of the room filled Marcus, and he shivered.


	6. The Long Ride Home

**The Long Ride Home**

After the interview with Caesar, Effie, Haymitch, and I were taken to the train to return home. I felt like sleeping on the way to the train station, but sleep just wouldn't come. I simply curled up in the car and closed my eyes.

After getting on the train I went directly to bed and tried to get some sleep. I just lay in the blackness looking for gray eyes in the dark corners of the room. For hours I lay there. After a long while I gave up and started wandering around. It was the same cabin we had used on the way to the Capitol. I found the hole Katniss created in the mahogany top of the table and sat there playing with it. Feeling the hole, I could picture that morning so perfectly, every detail. It still seemed realer to me than my current condition.

The idea popped into my head that her body must be on the train. Somewhere there was a box with Katniss in it. I started tramping all over the train, looking for her coffin. I met porters in the hallways and asked each one where Katniss' body was. None of them seemed to know.

Finally I met one who thought he knew where the body would be. He led me to a crate-filled room off one train car. Together we looked over each crate until I found one marked "Katniss Everdeen in care of District 12 Affairs Office, NOT TO BE OPENED". I sent the porter away with a huge tip. Part of me wanted to open the box and part of me just wanted the box to go away. I sat down on the floor and leaned on her crate; I wished I had a stiff drink.

I felt a huge wave of depression come over me. I wanted to grieve. I wanted to sit there for days and just feel what I lost. "Why am I alive? We took the same poison at the same time, and you were in better shape. I told you I wanted to die. I accepted that fate. I made my peace with my death as long as you lived. Why couldn't you just let me die?" My hands covered my face in despair.

I heard a whispered "Get up!" At least I think that is what I heard; I was not sure. _Could it be Katniss? Why would she be telling me to get up?_ I tried to picture her in the room, watching me, and in an instant I knew what was going on. If Katniss were there she would have been sick to her stomach watching me wallowing in my self-pity. Wow, I hadn't thought about that: I was to share every moment of the rest of my life with her. So much for self-pity. I wiped my eyes, got up, and straightened my shirt.

"All right, Katniss, I think I get the message. But if you're going to take my privacy away, I want your company in exchange, okay?" I waited, but nothing happened. "Hey, Katniss, I'm getting the feeling I'm talking to an empty room." I waited some more. "Damn, I'm crazy."

Okay, assuming my getting drunk and crying myself to sleep was not an option, what should I have been doing? I needed sleep. I hadn't slept in two days. On my way to my cabin, I started thinking about what was going to happen when we reached District 12. There had never been a victor in District 12 during my lifetime. I guessed there would be a lot of celebrations, speeches, and people wanting my time. But I needed to talk to the Everdeens. I would have to somehow sneak into District 12 and talk to Katniss' mother and sister.

I started hunting for the porter I had overpaid. When I found him I asked to be taken to the train's engineer. The porter led me to the first train car and hit the intercom.

My porter said with a wink and a smile, "Hey, guys, you'll never guess who I got here, who wants to talk to you." He thought this was going to be a great joke on them.

"It better be an official. You know we aren't allowed to bring people up here," rang back from the intercom.

"It's Peeta Mellark, the victor." My porter gave a small laugh, thinking about the chaos he just created.

The door opened and a man in a gray outfit who looked not much older than me stuck his head out. "My God, he's right—it is Peeta. Come on in." He motioned me in like I was some kind of royalty.

The control room was small and covered with all kinds of controls and screens, and in the middle were two seats for the engineers. Outside the pine forest sped by at a terrifying speed. The one engineer was still sitting, watching a screen. He turned around. "Holy shit, Peeta Mellark, I knew you were on board, but I didn't expect to meet you." We shook hands all around. The two engineers seemed so happy to see me I knew it was going to work.

"Guys, I have a problem, and maybe you could think of a solution. Tomorrow about 2 p.m. we are scheduled to be in District 12, and I expect there is going to be a huge crowd to meet me. The problem is I really want to talk to Katniss' family alone before dealing with the crowd. Do you have any ideas?"

The second engineer seemed to be the senior and spoke up. "Oh wow, man, I was so sorry to hear about Katniss. You know we all thought both of you would make it. So what you need is for us to get into the district early. We could press the engines and get there faster, but we have the Mississippi stop to make too, and it will have to be on time."

The other man, who had let us in, chimed in, "Couldn't we call ahead and see if anyone is getting on or off at Mississippi stop? Most of the time no one does in this direction."

A couple of calls later they agreed that they could get into the district a full hour before anyone expected us.

"Thanks, guys, I owe you big time," I said. "All three of you can consider yourselves invited over to my house for supper. Just give me a month to set up my new house, and then come over anytime you want."

They all agreed that I was very generous, and I headed back to my cabin. I started thinking I would need to court everyone I could from then on. Every person high and low might be needed from there on out if I had really made President Snow my enemy. I made a couple more friends that day; I needed to do that every day following. My life would be like a politician's.

I went to Effie's room and woke her; she wouldn't let me see her without her makeup on, and we spoke through the door. I told her what I was doing and to let Haymitch and the rest of my crew know what was happening. I would have told Haymitch, but I highly suspected he was too drunk for my words to get through.

By the time I reached my cabin, I again wanted nothing more than to sleep. As soon as I reached the bed I fell face-first on it and fell asleep.

"Peeta, wake up," Katniss whispered into my ear.

I did feel a thrill at her voice, but I was too tired; I didn't open my eyes or move at all. "Katniss, please, I'm so tired. I've done everything I can today for you and your family. Besides, you've ignored me for days. Just let me sleep."

"Peeta, please wake up. It wasn't my fault I haven't talked to you," Katniss pleaded.

I rolled over without opening my eyes. "Well whose fault was it, then?"

"Yours. As far as I can tell, you are in charge of when I can appear."

That got my attention. "How am I controlling it?"

"I don't know. But many times I say things and you don't seem to hear me. It is really very annoying," she said.

That got me to thinking. I pictured again the ceremony and President Snow's reaction. "Did Snow see you?"

"I think so, at least by his reaction."

"Has anyone else seen you?"

"I think the Avox girl saw me sometimes," said Katniss.

My mind started moving again. "So you think I can make you visible to me or other people at will?"

"It seems that way."

"I'll have to think about that," I said.

Katniss seemed annoyed with me as she said, "Peeta, that isn't what I want to talk about. Tomorrow you will be back in the district, and you will see my family. I want you to give them some messages."

"Did you write messages?"

"No. I meant to, but I didn't write anything before the Games. I had a hard time putting my ideas on paper."

"Katniss, if I pen letters for you, they'll know it isn't your handwriting."

"I'll help you fake my hand style. Please, Peeta, this is may be my last chance to talk to them."

"Okay, but you owe me a kiss," I said, and I waited a couple of very long seconds. I felt her breath on my cheeks and sensed her warm lips lightly touch mine. My whole body became flush with excitement, and in a fraction of a second it was over. I felt like I had just witnessed a miracle, and once again was wide awake.

I decided to push my luck. "I'm going to open my eyes, okay?"

"We can try," she answered.

Right in front of me was Katniss. She stood next to the bed, wearing her old training outfit. I studied every inch of her face, looking for the flaw that would prove it was some kind of illusion or trick. Every hair and every pore were there, but I could also see through her—she was a shadow, a living shadow! I wanted to reach out and touch her, but I was afraid of what might happen. "Let's decide what you want to say first and then figure some way to fake your handwriting."

I thought faking the handwriting would be the hard part, but I had never tried to get Katniss to express herself before. We started with her mother, and it was soon very obvious she had many issues with her. Trying to get her to forgive her mother even just on paper was horrible. I had to have her tell me a dozen stories of her early childhood just to get her in touch with the love she had felt for her mother. It was very hard on Katniss, and she cried a lot, but we finally got her to forgive her mother on paper and express her love and admiration one last time. We added a section to explain how Katniss and I had promised to adopt each other's families should one or the other survive. I tried to get her to talk about her funeral, but she refused to expound on the subject.

For Prim things went much easier. Mostly I worked with Katniss on telling Prim how proud she felt having volunteered in Prim's place, and how she thought Prim was worth the sacrifice.

Strangely enough, I was the one who believed in an afterlife, not Katniss, so I put words in her mouth about believing she would go to a better place if she died.

After Prim, Katniss thought she was finished, but I insisted she add a section for Gale. Of course, I had seen her and Gale together many times, and I had to confess my fear and jealousy. She did not want to talk of Gale in front of me, and she obviously wasn't even sure how she felt. Again I had to have her tell me a couple of Gale stories before she could feel her own feelings. We penned a section of her admiration and thankfulness to him. In it she told him how knowing him had made her stronger and better equipped to face the challenge of the Games.

I have to say, by the end we were both crying. I learned so much about her that night, I was amazed and so terribly in love with her again.

I loved having her with me, but every moment I was with her I felt more and more ill. Several times I almost threw up, but pushed it back. Something about being around her seemed to make my stomach do flips. I could also feel a building anxiety. I felt my life was in danger, though I could not put my finger on anything threatening. I told her nothing about the way I felt, but she could not have missed how sickly I must have looked.

Then we spent hours trying to rewrite it in her handwriting. To help me get the shapes of the letters right, she put her finger on my back and made the shapes of the letters. The trouble was that her touch felt more like an insect crawling on my skin than a human finger. I choked back more vomit.

After many hours of work, she declared my fake good enough, and I fell back in my bed. I couldn't stay awake any longer. She lay down next to me, and the last things I saw were her smiling eyes.


	7. Home Again

**Home Again**

In the morning I awoke to the porter knocking on my door. When I opened my eyes there was Katniss sleeping right next to me and my heart just melted. She looks so lovely and calm just sleeping on top of the bed right next to me.

"Mr. Mellark, we'll be in the station in about an hour," the porter said through the door.

"Thanks," I said. That woke Katniss, who smiled at me. "Good morning," I said.

She smiled as she said, "Good morning. What are you staring at?"

"You, you're just so beautiful and …. well I love waking to your face." That made Katniss blush. I asked Katniss to turn around and I got dressed. When I turned around she was dressed in the same simple blue dress she had worn on reaping day.

"Katniss, your promise to stay was me was a little hollow, wasn't it? You can't leave me, can you?"

Katniss shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe I can, maybe I can't, but I do know I don't want to."

Waking to Katniss and hearing that she wanted to stay put the first real smile on my face since the end of the games. I pushed away all thoughts of what I had to do today for a while, and just tried to live in that moment. When I finally turned to go for the door Katniss disappeared and I struggled to keep the image of her in my head.

After a quick breakfast I noticed that we were a full hour and half early, so my train engineer friends had done well. Looking out the window I saw the familiar green hills of home and for the first time I noticed how much I had missed them. For my whole life these green hills have looked down on me and somehow I had always thought they were protecting me, so I was so glad to be in their company again.

When the train stopped I jumped off and quickly hobbled across the train yard, afraid someone might recognize me. I flagged down a truck leaving the station.

"Could you give me a ride into town?" I asked old man in blue work clothes driving an old truck.

"You're Peeta!" he says.

"Yeah, I need to get down into the seam. Do you know where the Everdeen's house is?" I repeated.

"You aren't supposed to be here till 2. They all got a big party planned for you," the old man said.

"Don't worry, I'll get back for their party. Do you know where the Everdeen's house is?"

"Sure, I can take you there. You want to talk to Katniss's mother and sister, don't you? I'm so sorry for you. We all cried here about Katniss. I knew her father, you know. He saved my life along with 4 others guys the day he died. Yeah, I can take you."

He drove me down into the seam. Out the window I saw all the familiar images of District 12, and somehow after seeing the Capitol the sheer poverty seemed overwhelming. So many people walking around in old clothes and they all were far too skinny.

The old man just started talking, it seemed he have to get this off his chest. "I was there when we broke through to the cavern, Katniss's father, Evon was on lead that day, and he noticed the methane levels going up and ordered everyone out until the gas levels went down. After the first set of elevators we were met by the supervisor who said to go back down. The supervisor told Evon that he was risking the quotas, and Evon said the supervisor was threatening the whole mine. They had a huge argument. Evon fought all he could with the supervisor knowing that each minute they wasted arguing the gas was getting thinner. The supervisor was about to call the PeaceKeepers on Evon, so we went back to the elevators to go down. On the way there he tripped himself and blamed us, said we tripped him, and telling the supervisor we had to be punished. So they took us 5 guys up to get our lashes and before they laid a hand on us the whole mine blew up. Evon did that on purpose to save us, he knew what was going to happen, I could see it in his eyes as we parted. He saved my life and I won't forget that."

Soon we were in front of the Everdeen's shack of a house and I bid my driver goodbye.

I was almost to the door before I thought of what I was going to say. I felt my nerves creep up and I felt the urge to run away. To steady myself I pictured Katniss asleep in my bed this morning again, and I knocked on the door. When the door opened I saw the shocked face of Gale.

A shocked Gale said, "Peeta!".

"Can I come in?"

From inside the house I heard a woman's voice, "Who is it?"

"It's Peeta Mellark", Gale said as he moved aside and I came in.

Inside I found Katniss's mother and sister sitting around a small wooden table holding hands. Both their eyes have bags and are very red. As I entered their eyes widened with surprise. I sat at the table and grabbed Katniss's mother's hand.

I stared into Katniss mother's eyes and said, "I'm so sorry. I did everything I could think of to bring home Katniss. Please forgive me."

"Why do you need to be forgiven?" she asks.

"She died trying to save me. If she had just killed me you would have your daughter today."

Katniss' mother was obviously speechless and just gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. On the other side of me I heard Gale pull up a chair and sit at the table.

"You loved her didn't you?" Katniss's mothers asked.

"Yes, I've loved her for years. I always dreamed I would one day marry her."

"Did she really love you?"

I turned to Gale and said, "I believe in my heart she did, but I know she herself was never sure of her feelings." And I was glad to see Gale accept what I say.

"I've a letter Katniss wrote before the game." I handed the letter to Katniss's mother. "The letter will explain that I promised to Katniss to adopt you two if I survived. I plan to do just that. As far as I'm concerned you two are family now, and I want you to come live with me in the Victor's Village, and help me deal with all of this."

"I don't know," Katniss's mother said.

"Read the letter and think about it, but no matter what you decide I already consider you family. Everything I have is yours. I'll need to get back to the train station soon. I'm afraid many other people here expect to see me at 2. Here, Prim, is the mocking jay pin,." I said as I handed Prim the pin. Prim said nothing. She seemed to be in shock.

As I was about to exit the front door I grabbed Gale by the arm. "Gale, go to the bakery and ask for a job and I will make sure my dad hires you and teaches you how to be a baker."

Gale seemed surprise as he says, "I don't know about being a baker."

"Think of your family. You will make enough money to take care of them all and never have to enter those coal mines. My father will need you because he is losing me. I know Katniss loved you too. I spent years being jealous of you, but that is all over and I want the best for you, because that is what Katniss would have wanted."

As I turned to leave Gale grabbed my arm. "Those interviews, you're playing some kind of game with the Capitol, aren't you?"

"Yes. I can't say much now, but with the Capitol things …. are, well, complicated. When things don't go the way they expect other people must pay a price."

Gale showed some fear as he said, "You sure you want to bring them into the middle of that?"

"Physically close or not everyone I know or care about is going to have a target on them. My fame is the only reason you or they are still alive. If I thought putting them far from me or ignoring them would make them safer I would do just that." I replied.

When I left the man with the truck was waiting for me.

"You waited all that time for me?" I said.

"You said you had to go back to the train station. How are they doing?"

"They are built of strong stuff, these Everdeens, but they are suffering. Don't you have some work you're supposed to be doing?"

The old man's face went grim as he said, "I also have some debts to pay to the Everdeens and to you too, I think."

He drove me back and when I got there I could see the crowd already forming around the train. I sneaked into the front of the train, made my way back to my cabin and changed into one of my black suits. I didn't need the cane anymore, but I'd gotten use to carrying it. I grabbed Effie on the way out and asked her to stand beside me as I greeted the people. Effie and I made our way to the back of the train. If I had thought Haymitch was awake I would have grabbed him too. At 2 Effie and I walked out the back of the train to greet the people. It looked like the whole district had shown up. There were thousands of them. Way up in front I noticed the mayor, my parents, and my brothers Adrian and Breen. My old group of friends stood near the front: Thomas, Ray, Alfie, Madge, and Delly. Out in the crowd I saw old teachers, fellow students, old customers, and so many others. I waved to them all and called many of them out by name. The mayor got up and made a short speech and then I went forward to speak.

The crowd roared and I could really feel their excitement. These people have suffered through so much they deserve a few moments of celebration. After many waves of my hands I finally get the noise down enough that they might hear me. "I don't think I can say how great it is to be back here in District 12. I have seen a lot, but nothing compares to having people who know and understand you around. The Capital has its grand granite peaks, but none of our gentile green giants. The Capital also has its towering buildings, but here the people tower. I consumed a lot of great food there but I am really looking forward to some District 12 home cooked meals. I really want to hear about your lives and all that happened since I left you. I want to hear about all the engagements now the reaping is over. I want to hear all the gossip. But I must warn you the games left me wounded, so please if you must ask me about what I went through, please let it be late at night, after we have raised many glasses in honor of Katniss. I miss her so much." At that the whole crowd went silent. During the silence everyone put up the three finger salute, and I was so proud of these people. I spent the next couple of hours shaking the hands of as many of the people as I could. I was determined to charm them to death. A few of the dumber people told me they had always thought I would be the Victor. I was proud of myself for not saying anything back. Most gave me condolences for Katniss. None of them told me that they had bet on Katniss, though I expect a lot of them did.

When I got through talking to everyone, I pulled Effie aside.

"Effie, I want you to talk to the Mayor and get the keys for my house in the Victor's Village."

"Which house?", Effie said.

"When I was a kid I would sneak into the Victor's Village sometimes, so I've already picked the Victors Village house for me. There is a brick house with a veranda two doors down from Haymitch on his left. Get the keys and put all my stuff in the house. If you want you can stay there too. I myself will not get there until late tonight."

Soon my mother, father, and brothers join me and wait at my side for me to finish with the crowd. My father, and brothers waited patiently but my mother was moving in that agitated way she had. She obviously was tired of the whole thing and just wanted to go home.

Mom interrupts whatever my Dad said about to say with, "Oh dear, I have missed you so. You had us so worried. We need to get away from these people and get you home, my legs are so tired."

I try and calm her down with, "Soon, very soon. Some of these people have been waiting a long time to shake my hand."

My father and brothers stepped back knowing they wouldn't get a work in when Mom was in a mood like this and she said "All these people avoided us the whole time you were gone. We have lost so much business the last couple weeks."

I starting to getting annoyed with dealing with her mood, but simply said. "They likely didn't know what to say to you, and assumed you wanted to grieve quietly. Don't worry now I'm back I sure business will boom. You all are going to be celebrated."

She finally smiled with, "Your right with our winnings we will be able to double the bakery."

I finally lose my temper and say as emphatically as possible "My winnings!" Maybe because of all the people around maybe because she felt I had changed she didn't answer.

As we traveled home my mother did most of the talking, about how much she had suffered with worry over me. When we got home I told my whole family I was moving into the Victor's Village that night. This started an argument with my mother about how unkind I was. She tried to draw my dad into the argument and he tried to disappear into the wallpaper, as did my two brothers. I hugged my Father and apologized for the troubles I was causing him, and told him I loved him. I told my two brothers the same, but I added they were welcome to all the possessions I didn't take that night. Finally I tell my mom what I had been waiting my whole life to say, "I love you, from you I received life and from you I learned a lot about how fear can ruin a life." Her face turned deep red with anger, as it had so many times before, but this time she didn't hit me. Somehow she knew I would hit back today. And before I went upstairs to pack what I would take, I told them all they are welcome in my house, as long as they understand it is my house and I'm its master. As I went upstairs I felt a great weight being lifted from me as I would at last be free of the drama my mother presents.

Back in my old room I started packing up all my personal items in a few small boxes. It was amazing how little stuff there was. I picked up a baseball and thought, tomorrow is Saturday, which means baseball with my friends normally. What do you think are the chances they will show up tomorrow and ask if I can play? And here are my school books Do you think anyone is going ask where I am if I don't show up Monday in school? Will they ask for the books back? I had been making straight 'A's this year in school. Do you think anyone is going to ask for the homework? And all these work clothes, ready for me to work in the bakery, should I bring them? And here is my best outfit, which likely is worth less than the socks I am currently wearing. Every month there was a dance at the school and I would wear this each time. I don't think I will go to any more school dances. In my mirror I see a 16-year-old boy and it shocks me as my mind tells me my youth has just disappeared.

There were hundreds of pictures I had drawn around my room and many of them were of Katniss. My dream was always that I would figure some way to talk to her, she would fall madly in love with me, and we would marry. In my fantasy we would have a long and peaceful life with me having my own bakery and many kids. Well I guess she and I might have a long life together, but there will be no marriage, no children, and I guess no physical love.

Who is this boy in the mirror? I don't recognize him. Does this boy have a dead girlfriend he talks to every morning? And did this boy just get through killing several people? And is this boy taking on the whole government and President Snow? Who the hell is this boy and what is his relationship to me?

"Katniss, if you're here I so wish you would just give me a hug. I feel so alone here," I said. It crossed my mind to get drunk and try and cry this sadness out of me, but I tried to remember I must be strong, I must be strong for my dead girlfriend is watching. The things I do for my dead girlfriend.

I took the boxes outside, called some kids from down the street, gave them a little money, and told them to take the stuff to my new Victor's house.

Later that night I attended a big party in my honor in the center of town. There was food, drink, music, and dancing. I sat in the middle of a big table, in the center of it all, and did my best to be charming to all the people who came to congratulate me and give their condolences. I was the subject of many toasts and speeches, and I answered each with as much wit as I could muster.

When I finally left the party it was very late. Someone I didn't know drove me to the Victor's Village, which was good. I'd had too much wine. In front of the house I saw what a handsome house it is. It is huge, mostly brick, surrounded by a large wood veranda, two stories tall, and all lit up. The house was built over 74 years earlier on orders of the Capitol and constantly maintained even though no one had ever lived in it. Several times I had sneaked around this house over the years, so I knew it was fully furnished and ready to go. Years ago I had fantasized about owning this house, but now my mind was racing about all I had to do. The door was unlocked and I entered. I saw the huge living room with its beautiful natural stone fireplace on one wall and a stairs off to one side. I didn't see Effie, I was not sure if she was there or not. My guess was the master bedroom was upstairs, so I went up and looked around until I found a large bedroom. It had the largest bed I'd ever seen, with four huge dark wood posts which reached the ceiling. I just turned off the lights and flopped into bed. There I lay for hours, unable to sleep. The last time I looked it was 5 am and I was still awake.

"Peeta, morning," Katniss said, so I guess I did fall asleep.

I opened my eyes and Katniss was lying in my bed in her blue reaping dress.

"Did I do good?"

"Yes, Peeta you did good. Seeing my family tore me apart, but I don't know what I ever did to deserve you."

"You never did much for me, just save my life a couple of times and give me a reason to live," I said.

Katniss got a smile that just filled her face, and slowly gave me a long, lingering kiss.

We spent the next couple of hours planning what we could do together. I explained to her how I planned to stay in people's minds and hearts to keep Snow from touching us. Part of the plan would be to use my art to promote her as a great tragic heroine. Katniss didn't like the idea because she couldn't imagine anyone would go for it. Then I suggested that she could be the ultimate spy.

Katniss finally got excited, "Yes, I can walk right into the mayor's office or the peace keepers building and no one can stop me!"

"With the knowledge you get we'll be able do all kinds of things no one else can. How far can you travel from me?"

"I'm not sure. When you were in the hospital I tried to go up to the 12th floor once and I started to feel very weird."

"So maybe I'll have to get near the buildings we want to spy on, but still I think this is great idea!"

Also, I thought I should be able to control when she could appear. I just had to figure out what state of mind I needed to be in. So I resolved to meditate on this as often as I could.

The next day my doorbell rang for the first time and when I got to the threshold there was Effie. I welcomed her in with my best manners, because I knew how much it meant to her. We sat in the living room and I offered to make her some tea or coffee.

"Peeta, I'm sorry but I'm being called back to the Capitol. I don't know why. Normally after the games I'm given some time off, but this year they want me back right away." Effie's voice started to crack as she said, "You and Katniss were just great, you were my little pearls."

I gave her a hug and promised to stay in contact. When I held the front door, the morning sun shown in my eyes, and I squinted to see the day. I watched her walking away until she disappeared around the bend. I watched and waited not knowing what to do. Behind me was my house, in front of me was the Victor's Village, and for the first time I was alone and without anything in particular to do. I could feel some huge emotions building in me, I felt my tears gathering. I knew I had to do something now. I think to myself "It is a wonderfully bright summer's day." and then knew what I need to do. I said to myself "I need paints, oil paints, and some large canvases. Where in District 12 does one find such things?" So I get my cane and start off to town.


	8. Looking for Monsters

**Looking for Monsters**

Back in District 13, 300 feet below the surface of the earth.

The room was very small, and the little square table in the middle took up half the room. On one side was myself, Marcus, diligently going through the checklist of questions. Opposite me was the woman District 13 had saved at great expense and danger from the Capitol secret service. She was tall and blue-eyed with matching blue hair. Her documents said she was forty-three; she looked thirty-five and was trying hard to look twenty. Silbia Lure hair was all matted down now, and she was extremely tired.

I hated the whole process; I knew Silbia Lure hated it, but it was likely the only time she would have to go through it. I'd done it dozens of times.

Interviewing people is a complicated process. People lie all the time, and for so many different reasons; the only thing you can be sure of is you are not hearing the whole truth. With the Capitol you also have to take in account that they might even believe something totally false. The Capitol sometimes sets up people, and other times even brainwashes them. But the one interview which stuck with me the most was the recording they showed us during training, where the person just blew up killing all the people in the room. The Capitol found a way to get bombs into people without their even knowing!

Silbia Lure had all the looks of the real thing. We found records of a Silbia Lure working for Doctor Lucus, and the pictures matched her face. No devices were found in her or signs of recent operations. She was middle-aged, but trying desperately to look younger. She alternated between being scared and annoyed with our interview. So far we had asked her the same questions at least three dozen times over three days and found no notable contradictions.

"So let's go over again why you think the Capitols secret service is looking for you."

"I am so tired of all this shit," Silbia whined. "We've covered all this so many times."

"We are getting near the end of the process," I lied. "Just answer the question."

Silbia sighed. "I got an alarm call from the lab that they had a break-in while I was on vacation in the mountains. The alarm went to my phone. I could see them . . . I could see the Peacekeepers grabbing all research assistants, animals, and equipment."

"Then what?"

She leaned back and tried to comfort herself by rubbing her legs with her hands. She was obviously still very scared. "I started getting calls from friends saying that Doctor Lucus was dead, and everyone from the lab was being arrested."

"Why do you think this was happening?"

"There is only one good reason I could think of: he broke protocol and implanted a device in a person. The Capitol barely allowed us to do animal research," she said with wide eyes that could indicate either anger or overacting.

I could feel my anger building just thinking of those people's carelessness. "Why would the good doctor recreate a creature so dangerous? No one, I mean _no one_, has even tried to do it for hundreds of years."

"He wasn't trying to create anything—he wanted to save people's lives! The device could save hundreds of lives every year. I've seen it bring back subjects with 30% brain function loss!"

I attacked her again to see her response. "And you were completely ignorant of history, of what happened last time!"

"The device he made was only derived from those technologies—that is all. There were no signs of any unnatural abilities in any of the test subjects. There is no reason to believe anything like that can happen again!" she cried with just the right amount of anger; either she was really good or she was telling the truth.

"And these test subjects were what?"

"Monkeys."

_How could they be so careless? _I thought. "Did it never occur to you that it might be different in a human?"

"I'm saying we are the experts—we have studied it a lot longer than you, and we don't believe there is any real danger!"

"And if you are wrong, where would we find the patient with the implant?"

"I told you: I wasn't there. I was on vacation. I don't know who they put the device into."

"That part of the story I never bought. You may not have been there, but you think you know who it is."

Silbia's head slumped down and she spoke to the table, "I don't know anything, but Peeta Mellark . . . well, how else could anyone have survived something like that?"

I put a note on today's report: _Recommend the immediate assassination of Peeta Mellark._

I lied again, "Just one more question, if you are wrong. If the device does recreate a Banshee, what should we do?"

She waited a long time; the look in her eyes told me she didn't believe my lie about it almost being over, and she wished me dead. "Well, in that case, you will be in deep shit! You won't last five seconds against him if he really is a Banshee. Right now I wish we were wrong, but we weren't, and you'll end up killing an innocent young man because of your stupid fears."


	9. A New Family

**A ****New Family**

On the first Parcel Day, early in the morning, I heard my doorbell. When I opened my door there was Katniss' mom, Prim, several bags, a cat, and a goat. The goat seemed happy enough, the cat was pissed off, and the two people looked like they had walked through hell on the way to my house. The bags under the girls' eyes spoke of long, hard days, and their posture spoke of people just worn out_. Dealing with these people might be as big of a challenge as the government or my dead girlfriend._

I smiled and said, "Welcome to your new home. Come in."

When they entered the cat jumped down from Prim's arms and ran away to hide in the house, the goat calmly shit on the floor, and the girls just stared. I walked them though the living room, which I sensed was too big for our group, and right into the kitchen. We sat at the little breakfast table and I went to put tea on. "I'm so glad you decided to come. I'm not sure what I would have done if you didn't. You see, the reaping and the Games took away all the plans I had made for my life, and my promise to Katniss was one of the few things I felt I had left. This house has plenty of room for all of us, and I also have more than enough money, so I think we will do well here. I will give you guys the grand tour of the house and you can pick out your bedrooms. After that I will need you, Mrs. Everdeen, to help me make a shopping list of food and what else we need. Then we will go into town, buy supplies, and build Lady her own pen."

After I got the girls set up with their rooms and made a shopping list, we went into town. I gave Mrs. Everdeen all the money and watched the excitement she got just being able to buy things with cash. She kept saying everything cost too much, but I know she enjoyed the feeling of having money. We bought lumber and chain link fencing for Lady's pen and hired a truck to take it all back.

Thanks to all the rocks it took me most of the rest of the day to put in the fence. Prim helped me by getting drinks and tools, but mostly she just watched me. After a long while she got around to saying what she was thinking.

Prim lowered her head so I couldn't see her eyes and said, "Did it hurt? I mean, did dying hurt?"

Obviously she was worried about how her sister had died, so I said, "No, Prim, it wasn't like that. When we took the berries there was a bitter taste, not unlike vinegar. Then you can't see, and lastly you feel so weak you just fall down. It was all over in seconds. There was no pain at all."

Prim looked into my eyes. "Did you go to Heaven?"

"No, I don't think I was really dead."

"Do you think Katniss is in Heaven? Do you think she is really dead?"

"What do you think?"

"I just get this feeling sometimes like she's still here."

"Me too. You know how stubborn Katniss is. Maybe her spirit won't leave until all the people she loves can come with her."

Prim gave a little grim smile, the first smile I ever got from her.

When I finished with the fence it was time to start cooking supper. I cleaned up and all three of us started on dinner. The girls showed me how to make a stew and I showed them how to make bread. Mrs. Everdeen decided that I should call her Caroline. All the food did wonders for them. In some ways I think making the food was even better for them than eating it. After dinner we played cards and tried not to talk about anything serious until Prim went to bed.

Caroline and I stayed up for hours talking about the house and how to organize the chores and what Prim needed. Caroline said good-night and was about to leave when she said what was on her mind.

"Did Katniss talk about me at all?"

I started telling her the stories Katniss told me about her mom while writing the letter. "Yes, she told me several stories. The first one I remember is how you held her all night when she had the measles and sang to her. She felt so safe back then in your arms."

I went on to tell her the other stories Katniss told me, being careful to let her know how much Katniss loved her in those early years.

"Do you think she really forgave me?"

"I don't think Katniss was ever good at forgiving, but I know she kept her promises, so if she had lived you would have seen her struggle to forgive, but she wouldn't give up on a promise."

She thanked me for my honesty and went to bed.

That night I listened to the birds and cicadas and watched the full moon make its path across the sky. I sat for hours willing her back, imagining every detail of her, picturing her in front of me. Finally exhausted, I lay down to sleep and found myself unable to close my eyes. I got up and tried again. This pattern repeated many times and on many nights. I would go for days without sleep, but finally I started to see results. Now and again instead of Katniss appearing randomly she started to appear when I wanted her to appear.

The more I talked to Katniss the more my heart broke for her. My suffering was obvious, but I was the only person she could talk to or even touch. I knew I must keep her with me as long as possible every day, or she would go back to that half existence she suffered through.

Soon we fell into a routine: I would call it mundane, but I had never seen anything like it.

Mornings were the best. All day I would look forward to waking up. Five a.m. in the morning I would wake up, just like I had all my life, but instead of starting the ovens I would open my eyes and see a sleeping Katniss. I would lie there and just watch her sleep. I would force my mind to pause and focus on her beauty. After a while, questions would start ringing in my mind. _What is she? Is she really real? I have never heard of anything like her—am I the only person this ever happened to, or am I just so crazy?_ When I got tired of those questions and the lack of answers, I would move on to: _How are we ever going to be happy together? How can anyone be happy when they can't do anything and only have one person they can talk to?_ And when I got tired of those questions, I would wake Katniss. I loved the fact that she smiled as I woke her; part of me said she was really happy to see me, but then again, she had fooled me before.

"Morning, Katniss."

Katniss smiled and opened her eyes. I just loved that she smiled before opening her eyes. "Morning. What's the schedule today?"

"Well, we went visiting the Hobb yesterday, the day before we went hunting. How about today we do some spying at the Peacekeepers' building, or maybe we can say home today and do some art."

"You call that hunting? You didn't shoot anything! You need a lot more practice before you can call it hunting," Katniss teased with a mocking frown.

"So you want another try at teaching me the bow? I just thought we might try and learn more about the rebellion today."

"Okay, you win, but can we go by the old house on the way?"

"Sure."

When I left my room, I would often lose Katniss, but I had learned how to bring her back. It took effort, but I could bring her back if I meditated right. A side effect of bringing her back was my stomach would get upset, and I could feel myself getting nervous. Sometimes my stomach would get so bad I threw up, and other times my nerves got so strained I had a panic attack and had to hide for a while in the basement. I would wake Prim and Caroline and start making breakfast. They both loved my baking, especially in the morning.

A smiling Prim would bounce into the kitchen. "Morning, Uncle Peeta."

"Morning, Prim. Do you want English muffins?"

"With orange marmalade?"

"Is there any other way?" she said with a smile that made me almost as happy as her sister's.

Looking at Prim I would wonder, _Should I—or even could I—share Katniss with her_? _To have someone else to share this would make me feel so much better._ Katniss and I would have long arguments about it, but in the end we always backed down and admitted it was just too scary to share.

After Prim went off to school, Caroline and I would share a cup of coffee; then it was off to spy on the Peacekeepers. So down the road I went, me, my cane, my box of paints, and my invisible girl. She could talk all she wanted to, which wasn't much, but I had to watch that I didn't get caught answering.

Now that Katniss was around most of the day I kept getting caught talking to myself. Katniss and I had to come up with hand signals to avoid people figuring out how crazy I really was. With my left hand down by my side I would move the first finger of the left hand for "I heard you," second finger for "yes," third for "no," and fourth for "I don't know." People thought I was a crazy young man with palsy.

As we walked through the town, everyone would say hello to me. Not only was I the most famous person in the district, but I had been doing my best to charm the people. My shadows stuck out like sore thumbs; they were the only two people in the town who didn't say hello. These spies following me had become something of a joke to me. It didn't matter to me much that I was followed; they couldn't see my secrets, my Katniss.

One person we would see each time was Grandma Mabel. The name stuck even though all her kin were dead. I don't know how she found us, but she always did. She would walk up to us, grab my hand, stare into my eyes, and talk about Katniss. At some point her face would just start to glow, like I had told her some marvelous joke. I really found it upsetting, but I humored her. I wished she would just let me be. It wasn't until much later that a friend of hers told me how she looked forward to finding me and how she loved to see the "shadow lady" out of the corner of her eye.

When we got to the Peacekeepers' building I would set up my easel and Katniss would slip inside. When she got to the door I would avert my eyes; watching anything go through her made my stomach flip.

It took us weeks to figure out when and where information could be found, until Katniss found out when their status reports were reviewed. Every day they would review the reports from all the districts in a meeting, and she would just listen, aghast by what she heard. Katniss, like all of us, thought of the government as unassailable, but it wasn't so. She would hear of attacks on the government by dozens of groups in all the districts but 12. The government was monitoring hundreds of people and many groups, but still they lost many Peacekeepers a month. Many of the groups took their names from Katniss and it made her so proud. One of the groups called the "Citadel" was special. Unlike the other groups, it seemed to have chapters in each district, and every report on a group would have a section on how they interacted with this "Citadel." I wish they would say more about the nature of the "Citadel." The reports clearly showed that they thought a revolution was coming, but also that it would end like the last one.

When she returned she tried to time her exit to follow someone leaving; she knew how it hurt me to see her pass through things. We would return in time to see Prim home from school.

Lucky for us, we didn't have anybody over for dinner, or we would have had to start getting ready for that. About once a week we had people over, the mayor, Peacekeeper officers, reporters, or government officials, and sometimes even people we like from the district. I was trying to charm people to protect the Everdeens. I never told Prim or Caroline what we were doing, but I think they figured it out, because they played along.

Without the dinner to worry about I had time to do more art. I always loved drawing, but I never imagined I would be a real artist. Upstairs in the library we had large windows that give me the natural light I needed, and we could spend the afternoon drawing and painting. Ever since the Games, my skills had become amazing. All over the walls and stacked on the floors were all my works, and they were beyond anything I thought I could do. Most of my art revolved around the Games and Katniss, but there was also the District and my life too. Sometimes I got Prim or Caroline to join me, and I would help them do their pieces.

I remember one time I found Prim looking out the window in the library, and I went over to say hello. When she turned around I saw she had been crying.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"I don't know. I'll be okay for a while and then I'll have some random thought and . . . I'll just end up crying. How do you deal with it?"

"There is nothing wrong with missing Katniss or crying. Still, sometimes my thoughts get too negative and I feel I'm going to break down. On the train ride back it happened. I almost broke down; I had found Katniss' casket and just started to come apart. I just sat on the floor next to her casket and started having a fit. In middle of my breakdown I suddenly felt Katniss' presence and knew what I was doing was hurting her, so I just stopped. Since then, I realize I don't have the strength to do what I need to do, but I'll do it anyway for Katniss."

Prim got up and wiped her eyes. "For Katniss, I guess I can do this."

"For Katniss, for your Mother, and maybe a little for me too?" I answered.

"Yes, Uncle Peeta, for you too," Prim said as she gave me a kiss on my cheek.

As it got late and the light started to fade I would go down and help Prim and Caroline with dinner. They were making me a better cook, and I was teaching them a lot about baking. Dinners where people talked and actually enjoyed each other—it was just wonderful. For the first time in my life I was part of a family in which fear only existed outside its doors. After dinner we would talk and play card games.

After a while we would go upstairs and spend hours on my correspondence. Most of it was fan mail, but I also got letters from reporters, our old sponsors, and Capitol people I met. Most of the common people wanted to comfort me. I would encourage reporters to come to talk, or I'd write to sponsors to keep me in their thoughts. Reporters were easy. They were always looking for angles, and I fed them just what they needed.

I contacted Livia Stone about my progress on my pictures, and soon she was writing to me every week. I also started getting letters of encouragement from Livia Stone's granddaughter, Tess. Tess Stone claimed that she talked to me at the Victor's party, but I didn't remember her.

Late at night I would take my drugs. I had drugs for my nerves, drugs for my stomach, and drugs to sleep. Without some help on most nights, I wouldn't sleep at all. The strongest sleep drugs the district doctors could provide did little, but I found some drugs from smugglers that often worked.

As I nodded off, Katniss would check on Prim. So many times Prim still ended up in her mother's bed. It was at those times Katniss always was the most vulnerable: she would just look sad, and sometimes she would cry. If I asked her, her answers were always short and cryptic. I knew she was scared, and she was facing the doubts I started my day with. What was she? How were we ever to be happy together? What was our future? I would just hold her, kiss her, and nod off.


	10. Warnings

**Warnings**

It was very early in the morning of a summer's day, on a hill miles from District 12. From there the district's small outline could be made out, the large coal shovel, the rail line, and indistinct buildings, but not much more. The hill itself had a small bald spot where lightning had burned out the forest years ago. If you had a powerful lens and looked there today you would see people scurrying about. In just a couple of hours the bald spot would disappear, and again the mountain would look like all the other green giants around it.

Marcus stood staring down on District 12 from the hill as his small crew was setting up camp. Within the hour, they had to have their camouflage up so they wouldn't be discovered and could watch the district undetected. His crew was running around setting up tents, camouflage, instruments for a long observation. Marcus was in command, and that suited him; he knew from the time he was a small child that command was his family's and his destiny. He had convinced District 13 of the importance of the mission, he had gotten command, and he had chosen the people. He paced around, unhappy that the generals had given him everything but one thing, the one thing he thought most important. Marcus felt history was slipping out from under him; District 13 seemed bound to make the same mistakes as their ancestors.

Trying to change his own mood, Marcus stared at the rolling hills around him. Marcus loved those hills; they differed from the Capitol's stony mountains or District 13's caves. He had never been to District 12 before and had no idea how charming it was. The hills were covered by some many trees and animals; it was hard not to imagine they were somehow the very embodiment of the life-force. _After the war, assuming I am still alive,_ he thought, _maybe I will move here and raise a family. Running around these hills with children seems to be an ideal future._

He looked over to his left and saw the gunnery officer setting up the auto sniper. What a wonderful piece of death-dealing equipment it was. It had a tripod with auto gyros to keep it perfectly steady, a huge electric optical sight, and a powerful laser beam to kill anything for miles.

"Gunny, is your gun ready?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

Marcus waved him aside, took the controls, and started panning the distant district. He could hear the camp behind him get quiet as all work came to a halt. Zooming in closer and closer until he could make out individuals, he started to search the roads. Finally, he found what he was looking for: a young blond man with a cane but no noticeable limp walking along the road toward town. He zoomed in more until the back of the man's head filled the screen. The crew could all see what was being aimed at through the repeating monitor right next to him. He locked on to the target so the computer would follow every move he made. All Marcus had to do was pull the trigger.

A very nervous lieutenant gunnery officer, risking both his bars, said, "Sir, the orders. The orders didn't include any assassination."

"Lieutenant, I believe _I_ am in charge here," Marcus growled.

The lieutenant's voice lowered to a whisper: "Sir, they will break you."

Marcus put a little more pressure on the trigger. "I have risked my life many times to protect this world. You don't think I will risk my career?" All of a sudden the computer lost focus; the image became a blur, like some heavy gas was between Marcus and his target. And for a second, just a second, he thought the image on the back of Peeta's head looked like one very angry young girl, staring right at him. Marcus pulled away from the gun, his hands shaking. He looked back at the lieutenant's face, who obviously didn't see anything. _I will review the tape later,_ he thought to himself, but he knew what he would find. He knew he had just received a warning. . . . Shaking his head, Marcus walked into the woods to think about what just happened, to figure out what it meant, and to stop his hands from shaking. The crew finished setting up camp.

In the woods he tried to listen to the birds and admire the trees, anything to help him forget his own fears. He knew he had to suppress his fears for his men and his superiors—he needed their confidence. He was sure he knew what Peeta was, and he also was sure many people were going to die if he mishandled this. He found a small stream and sat next to it on a rock, plotting what he was going to do next.

Hours later he returned to the camp. They were done with the set-up, and the camp was invisible from all prying eyes. He gathered them together in the mess tent, the largest of all the tents. Guards, support, and techs gathered on his left and District 13's Secret Service officers on his right, a mere dozen people all together.

"Okay, some of you people were briefed before we left, but just so no one feels left out, here is our mission: District 12, up to this point, has been considered unimportant, and we have no observations or agents in it. We are going to change that. We are going to learn all there is to know about this district, and neither the Capitol nor District 12 is to know anything about us. We are interested in everything about this district, but our primary target is Peeta Mellark."

Remu, the senior agent, spoke for the group: "Sir, may I ask why Peeta Mellark is so important?"

"You may ask, but I can't give you a complete answer." Marcus paused shortly. "Just remember: a war is coming. We don't know when, but soon. And when that war comes, we will want as many of the districts as possible to align themselves with us, but they don't trust us. Hell, they don't know we exist! Our political analysis believes we can use Peeta Mellark and the memory of Katniss Everdeen to address the issue." Marcus thought, _Our generals are fools—all they can think of is the coming war._ _They just can't take my warnings seriously. They think no matter what or who he is, they can handle him._

He pointed down the hill. "From this hilltop we will try to discover all the observable facts about the district and Peeta Mellark." Then he looked back to his agents. "While all that is going on, you guys must get agents up and trained in a district so small that any new face will be questioned. It is going to be a long haul. First, we start with smugglers and criminals. Once we are established as a vital part of the smuggling business, we will use the criminals to introduce us to sympathetic individuals we can train to be our agents. Then we must work those agents to be confidants of Peeta Mellark."

"That is going to take _so_ long. Hell, the war might be over before we are ready!" Remus chimed in again, making it clear he was leader among the agents.

Luckily, Marcus had an answer all ready for him. "That is why I am going back to the Capitol for one more longshot mission. There are not many people who can travel between districts with little or no questions, but there are a few. I am going to try and get one of those to help us here. The woman I am thinking of would be perfect for the job. Not only could she just show up here, but she could get right next to Peeta Mellark without batting an eye. Technically she doesn't work for us, but she does believe in the cause."


	11. The Dolly

**The Dolly**

Her big gray eyes were filled with tears, her long hair hung in wet curtains on the side of her face, and her nose was running. Her name was Sue; she was five years old and very scared. Her mother was off talking to Caroline. Her brother received a bad burn on his arm that morning, and you could hear his cries throughout the house. Each cry of her brother made her shake.

The day had started with a rainstorm, which was still going on. The rain came down in great sheets. After we got Prim off to school, I had to face the fact that I couldn't do much that day. There was no sunlight for painting, no hunting, and no spying. We didn't even have a planned dinner to get ready for—nothing. So Caroline and I ended up doing a lot of small talk around the kitchen table with more and more coffee. Katniss just slumped in the chair wearing her hunting gear and stared out the window. I might have had little to do, but she had nothing and was terribly bored.

They came with a wail, and then a rapid pounding on the front door. When I opened the door the three of them looked like drowned rats. The wild-eyed woman carried her little daughter wrapped tightly in her arms, and the larger boy was right next to her, clutching her hand with a death grip and shrieking in pain.

I yelled for Caroline, towels, and blankets, and helped the family in. Caroline came running, grabbed the boy, and even before the mother could say a thing she noticed the large red burn on the boy's arm and started rushing him off to the little den next to the living room she used to see her patients in. That left me to run off and get the towels and blankets.

The girl was very young—four, maybe five—and the boy was only ten years old. As I dried them I learned that the boy's name was John, the girl Sue, and the mother who looked so skinny and old was Mary Law. The mother as so many had come to the only medical help the poor of the district could depend on. A close look at the mother's desperate gray eyes and dark hair told the usual story of a poor woman who married poor and young, and now was looking twice her real age.

We gave the family our coffees to warm them; they had never had real coffee and didn't know what to make of it, but they drank it anyway. I ran to get this and that, medicines, bandages, and finally went to put more water on. I started to feel ill. I knew the feeling: it was the sickness I got from making Katniss visible, which was strange because she had disappeared. When I went to the kitchen I opened the door and almost gasped.

The little girl was in middle of the kitchen—the frightened little girl was holding out a little cloth doll. The doll was a very simple thing made of rags and small pieces of worn-out odds and ends; it had a face drawn on a piece of cloth, and its hair was of shredded cloth, but it was the only thing the girl could call her own, and she held it out to a kneeling Katniss, right in the middle of the kitchen. Katniss' eyes were all watery.

I was stunned and didn't know what to do for what seemed like forever. Several times I thought someone had seen her, but this! First I worried that we might be walked in on, but the cries of her brother told me that wasn't likely.

"I see you have found my friend," I said. I was doing my best to not show surprise or worry.

The little girl looked for a second at me, but then she whispered something in Katniss' ear.

Katniss said in a low almost-whisper, "He's Peeta. He is a very nice boy, and you can trust him. Okay?" The girl whispered more in Katniss' ear. "She likes you, Peeta, but her mother told her not to talk to strange men." Katniss wiped a tear as she said, "She just found me and wanted to show me her dolly Alice, and I told her of my old dolly Nancy."

It was amazing. Not only was she able to see Katniss, but she could talk to her. No one but me had ever been able to do that. Watching them talking on the floor of my kitchen, I thought I started to understand. I knew if the girl's mother came in all she would see was a girl playing make-believe on the floor. Katniss was real; she had to be. She had told and taught me so much. She couldn't be in my mind, but her image, her body—that was me. I chose what clothes she wore, I chose when she appeared; she even looked like my favorite version of her, as I knew her just before the Games. Somehow I could influence the senses of myself and others. They put something in me; they changed me, but what, and why? Somehow I was going to have to figure it out, because it was changing me, changing me into . . . what?

I decided to see how far we could push it. I tried to image how it would feel, how the little girl's hand in Katniss' would feel, and signed Katniss to hold the girl's hand. Katniss looked scared; I knew she didn't want to risk losing the only other person for her in months. She slowly put out her hand in an offer to the little girl, who readily grabbed it.

At the girl's touch, Katniss said a surprised "Oh!" as a big smile reached across her face and tears dripped down her cheeks. It was well worth the vomit I choked back. I could feel the illness and fear rise up in me, but it was my gift to Katniss, and I wasn't going to back off. They played on my kitchen floor, and for a while Katniss could feel normal and the little girl could forget about the terrible day and what her brother and mother were going through.

They played their doll games with little whispers, though Katniss was careful to speak loud enough for me to hear; she wanted to include me, at least some.

When the family departed later that day, it left me thinking wild thoughts. _How can I get the girl and Katniss together again? How far can I push this? What is happening to me? Where and when will this end?_


	12. Hunting for Love

**Story so far:**

Peeta has taken in Prim and Katniss' mother (Caroline), and they are taking a go at being a family. Peeta has a crazy plan to protect the Everdeens by being so popular that it is politically impossible to touch him. He is writing letters to everyone, doing interviews with reporters, having important people over for supper, and doing his best to charm everyone.

Meanwhile, Marcus, an agent of District 13, has been hunting down Peeta and setting up observations and spies on him. Marcus would like Peeta killed, but he lost that argument with the generals and now must figure out a way to get Peeta to work for District 13 and the coming revolt.

Only one or two more things are going on, like Peeta is living with a dead girlfriend. They are trying to make their relationship work despite her invisibility and her lack of a pulse. Peeta knows he is somehow making her real, but on the other hand, he knows she is not just a creation of his mind—she is somewhere in between. She is just a shadow of what she was, but that is enough for Peeta to hold on to. Oh, one other thing: Peeta is not technically human anymore; he is just not sure what he is. Marcus knows what he is and that is the reason he wants him dead.

**Hunting for Love**

Whenever possible, I took Katniss to the woods that she so loved. There she trained me to be a hunter.

My foot fell slowly; I was desperately trying not to make a noise. On my cheek, I could feel the wind shift direction. I started to worry that the deer I had been tracking for half an hour might get downwind of me, so I started to move quickly, carefully watching the ground for twigs and dry leaves. I could still hear the deer chewing—so far so good. I could not see it, but it must have been near, very near. To my left was an opening in the bushes, and I knew the deer would have to go through the opening or completely reverse its path. I grabbed an arrow, readied my bow, and started to wait. First one minute, and then another; I wasn't sure how long I could keep the arrow drawn. Finally I heard it move, and then I saw its body. The deer ran right into the path of my arrow, so my arrow pierced its belly and then just disappeared as it entered its body. When the deer fell, I looked over to see Katniss' expression. The excitement and joy in her face was my true trophy. "Peeta, you did it! That was just brilliant!"

"Well, I had a great teacher."

I was proud of myself. I had done well, but the real payoff was the look on Katniss' transparent face. In the woods Katniss seemed more alive than anywhere else. She just loved the woods, and the idea that she couldn't hunt anymore just made her so sad, so she lived vicariously through me. I worked very hard to be the hunter she wanted me to be, and I listened very closely to everything she said.

Katniss told me how to dress the deer, and I almost got sick pulling all the guts out. She showed me how to lock the legs together using its own tendons, and that was when I noticed the weather had changed and the sky was dark with clouds.

"It looks like we are going to get wet. Well, at least _I_ am going to get wet."

"Peeta, come with me down by the lake. We can wait out the storm in the old cement house."

Katniss had shown me the cement house down by the lake earlier. It was just one room really, but it would keep me dry. By the time we got there the rain had already begun. We started a fire in the ruin's fireplace. The wind was cold and damp, and the storm clouds made it darker, so we cuddled in the corner of the room. I cut off some pieces of the deer's flank and roasted it on a stick over the fire.

"How I miss the taste of food. I would give anything to taste that meat. You can't imagine how it is not to taste things, not even to feel hunger," Katniss said with a pained look.

I tried to say something. My mouth opened, but no words came.

"It's okay, Peeta. Before you came along I couldn't feel anything. For days I wandered around that hospital thinking I was in some kind of hell before I felt you wake up. I just knew you would be able to hear me. Without you I don't know how long my mind would have lasted."

I laid my hand on her hip and felt a shudder run through her body.

"Oh, Peeta, when I am invisible I can't feel anything. I just want to be normal. I want to feel, smell, and taste as I used to. I want my life back. Peeta, only you can make me like that," Katniss said with a plea in her eyes.

Looking at the prayer in her eyes, I knew I wanted to give her life. In the arena I was ready to die for her, and after all this time nothing had changed. My hand went to feel her cheek, and she turned her head to lay it firmly in my hand. I could feel the soft warmth of her cheek and her hot breath on my hand. My thumb reached to feel her lips, which parted and reached up for my touch. Deep down I knew my love was making her real. I saw in her eyes new strength and lust, and I knew I could deny her nothing.

Before my eyes she changed: from a shadow she became real. The skin, the eyes—everything was perfect, perfectly normal! I knew if we were in town, everyone would see her just as a normal girl. Katniss' eyes grew wide, and she sucked in a lungful of air.

"Peeta! Oh my God! The air smells of rain and smoke!" She stuck out her tongue and licked my thumb. "Peeta! I can taste you! You're salty!" We grabbed each other and just started laughing in wild hysteria. As we laughed, I could hear her sniffing my hair, my skin, anything, and her tongue tasted my ear. "Peeta! I'm cold! Really cold! It's wonderful! You did this, didn't you? Thank you, thank you. . . ." It was then that she looked down and realized she didn't have any clothes on. She paused, and for moment I thought she would run off; then she got a big smile again, and with a laugh she said, "Well, Peeta, you got everything perfect—you are truly a great artist!" Then she kissed me again. We just couldn't stop kissing—every kiss demanded two more.

The rain came down in great sheets. We both were amazed by every touch. Everything seemed new; it was like I never touched anything before. The warm, yielding softness of her skin—every motion of her body was beyond real. The world disappeared. All there was for her was me, and all there was for me was her. Finally, even I and she disappeared; we became one being in both mind and body. The joy of this new being burst into this world with a scream of elation. It was heaven. Then my eyes wouldn't focus, and it all went black.

"Peeta! Peeta! Please wake up!" Katniss was yelling in my ear. I tried to make sense of the blurred images I saw and figure out where I was.

"I'm okay. Where am I?"

"Peeta, you passed out. You were so pale I thought you had a heart attack!"

Looking at her, I could see how scared she was and how the moment had passed; she was a shadow again, in her hunting outfit.

"No, I'm okay, sweetie," I said as my memory came back and I realized what had happened. I had never felt so bad and so happy at the same time. I couldn't stop sweating and shaking; every ounce of warmth was gone from my body. I felt like I had just swum in an ice-filled lake. And on top of all of that, I couldn't stop smiling. After throwing up I thought I would declare it the best day of my life. The look on Katniss' face revealed more fear than she ever showed during the Games.

"Peeta, I almost killed you!"

"No, it's not that bad. Just give me few minutes to recover, okay?"

"No, Peeta, I almost killed you! We need to get a doctor!"

"No! I don't need a doctor. I told you I will be fine—just give me a few minutes."

I threw up again, and Katniss picked up some wood and put it on the fire. "See, I knew it. I could feel it when we made love—you are stronger."

After that day Katniss swore never to make love to me again, and I lied to her, saying she was overreacting. I knew it was just a matter of time until we did it again. I could feel her need, and of course I knew my own. I couldn't explain what happened, but I knew it made her stronger and me sick. For a while it was almost like she was of flesh and blood—it was a miracle.

Now she was a shadow again, but she was stronger. She could move things, like a very weak normal person. So I had her read and answer the fan letters we got. Late at night as I took my sedatives she would work at the desk I had moved next to my bed. Having real work to do and people to talk to, even just by letters, made her feel so much better.

As I started my drug-induced sleep I began to think about my dreams. My dreams were always the same. Every night since the Games in my dreams, I became the ghost. My ghostly form would wander through some hospital I had never seen. I kept looking all over the hospital, but I never found her—I never found Katniss.

But as I fell asleep that night, I set my mind to a new dream. I would dream of the day I'd walk hand-in-hand with Katniss into town. I would dream of the day Katniss could hug her sister and mother. I would dream of the day she could hunt again. And I could dream of the day we would sleep together as man and wife. That would be the day I mastered whatever the Capitol doctors did to me, the day I had enough power to make her real and keep her with me, the day I would have power, lots and lots of power. Soon I would have the power!


	13. Meet Tess Stone

**Meet Tess Stone**

Early one morning after I sent Prim off to school, my doorbell rang. When I answered the door, I saw a pretty young smiling girl, maybe 18, and behind her a very large mountain of a man, like 40. The girl was obviously from the Capitol, with her fully made up face, white skin, pink lips, auburn hair, and a huge red bow on her head. The man looked like a character from a PeaceKeeper recruiting poster, blue eyed, square chin, with a huge scar down his face, neck, and down under his shirt. The smile on her face was so open, trusting, and sincere I found it hard to believe it was aimed at me, someone who didn't even know her.

Through a generous smile she said, "Hello, Peeta. I am Tess. Tess Stone."

The well connected Lady Livia Stone has been working with me for months on setting up a show of my art work in the Capitol, and I do remember getting a letter months ago from her granddaughter Tess, but nothing more.

"Oh yes, Tess Stone. Come on in. How is your grandmother?" Out of the corner of my eye I could see Katniss smiling, as she seemed to be studying my face. I knew something was going on, but what?

"Great, she sends her regards and she hopes we can put together that art exhibit soon."

Tess sat on my couch. Katniss sat right next to her, and the man went to stand against the wall.

"Don't mind Tom. He is not very friendly, but is extremely loyal," Tess said as she gave an unanswered smile to Tom.

The strange quiet man irritates me, but not as much as not knowing what was going on with this girl. "So I guess you're here to see how my art is going?"

"Well, yes, that is one reason I came. And I did bring some presents for the whole family, but really after all the letters we exchanged I just wanted to talk in person."

Katniss just smiled, "You know, under all the makeup, I think she is really very pretty. What do you think?"

I wished I had a finger sign for "What the hell is happening?". I flashed her the yes sign.

Katniss said, "You should tell her how excited you're to see her in person."

"Well, I'm very happy to see you. I've always looked forward to your letters. In fact, tonight, I think I will have to re-read them." What letters were we talking about? "I'm such a poor host. Let me get you some tea, or would you prefer coffee?"

"Tea would be fine.", Tess said.

When I got into the kitchen, I frowned at Katniss. "What is going on?"

"Nothing. You told me to answer the fan mail, so I did." Katniss said as she hunched her shoulders.

She was up to something I knew it, but I couldn't make sense of this. "What did you say to her?"

"Nothing much," Katniss said with a smirk.

When I got back and pour the tea I asked her. "Where are you staying?"

Tess says, "Don't worry about me, I parked my family's rail car at the rail yard. It's a lovely apartment on wheels really with all the luxuries of home. And I have Tom to keep me company. Grandma won't let me travel without him."

It dawn on me she is planning to say a while. What is she planning on doing here?

I looked up to see Caroline coming down the stairs. As soon as Tess sees her she gets up to greet her.

"Oh Misses Everdeen I am so glad to see you. I am so sorry for your lose, Katniss seemed to be such a wonderful girl. I cried many tears over Katniss. It was a crime what happened to your daughter, I believe that and there are many others in the Capitol that would agree."

Caroline obviously was a little shocked and confused by Tess but said, "Oh,…Thank you."

Tess made a hand sign to Tom and he came over and handed a box to Tess. "I found this for sale in the Capitol and think it belongs with you." When she opened the box Katniss's blue reaping dress came out. On seeing the dress she covered her face with the dress and started sobbing. Tess hugged her and started whispering in Caroline's ear.

Caroline finally got some control of herself and said, "It had been my favorite dress, I saved it for years to share with her and she only got to wear it once."

Still hugging Caroline Tess said, "She will be remembered by everyone, a hundred years from now people will remember her bravery and beauty."

"She was always a brave girl. She saved our whole family when she was just 11 years old, you know."

After Caroline finally settled down, Tess and I went upstairs to show her my art.

We went up to the library which now served as my studio. Leaning against all the book shelves are many pictures of mine, each carefully covered with drop cloths. I had learned quickly that some of my subjects were too intense for the girls. Katniss stays close to Tess, she seemed very curious about everything she does.

Tess head started to slowly scan the room. "You did all of these, in just a couple of months!"

I try to minimize the work, but I myself don't understand how fast and good I have become. "Well not all of them are complete."

I move around the room picking out my least intense pictures. I pick portraits, and landscapes. Katniss calls out some of her favorites.

When I hand Tess the pictures one, by one she lights up like it was Christmas, "Wow, Peeta these are great! This portrait of Prim and Caroline is not only wonderfully done, but I can really feel how much you care for them, it is just so loving. Prim looks so bright, and full of life. Are all of these this good?"

Katniss beams with pride, "You are going to be famous. Didn't I tell you so?"

I try to break the bad news to her gently, "Depends on what you mean by good. Technically, that is not my best effort. I did that very early on, but most of my best works I don't think are sellable."

"Oh, Peeta don't show her those. You just met her. Don't scare her!", Katniss pleaded.

Tess says, "Why is that?"

How can I explain to anyone, except maybe Katniss, how these terrible images haunt me day and night and I must get them out? "I lot of them are so sad, or intense, I don't suspect anyone will want them besides me."

"Like what?", Tess says.

I point to a picture on the floor, right next to her foot. "You might not want to look at that one."

Katniss glares at me and says, "Oh, Peeta what are you doing?"

She uncovers it, and her hand goes to her mouth, as her face goes ashen. She saw a beautify young girl, with long auburn curls, cuddled in a pile of wonderfully large brown leaves. Her pale peaceful, almost angelic face was framed by the large brown leaves, the glow of the fire, and the large long bright red scarf she wore. So when in the next second when you finally notice the red scarf is her blood and someone had slit her throat it came as a shock. Tess looks for a chair and tries to compose herself. "Who is she?"

I can feel my throat close up, and I hold on to avoid tears. "She is one of my victims. I slit her throat in order to be able to stay with the careers. I have several of her here. I just can't get her out of my head. She is the reason I am going to hell."

Tess looks so sad as she says, "Oh, my poor boy. None of that was your fault."

I not sure I can explain it to anyone, but I will give it a try. "I had already decided to do whatever was necessary to protect Katniss. So you see it was important that I lived, and that I stay with the careers, so I could save her, but that means I had already decided that Katniss's life was more important than mine or hers. I am going to hell."

Katniss started pacing back and forth with anger. "You didn't do shit, it was that damn President Snow and the Capitol. They are the ones responsible, not you!"

Tess grabs my hand, gives it a firm grip, looks me in the eye and says, "It really is a wonderful picture, I have known every important artist of the last ten years personally. And I can honestly say your work is beyond them all. You were going to take the art world by storm."

I say, "Even with subject matters like that?"

"Maybe you wouldn't want it in your living room, but museums and some collectors would love it.", Tess said.

I feel sicken at the thought of people admiring this horror of mine and say, "I don't think I would like anyone who liked it."

Tess voice sounds raspy as she says, "Peeta, it is the truth. You are telling the truth to people. The people of Panem need to face these things. Some people know how rare the truth is, and will love it for that." Then she gives me a hug, a kiss on my cheek, and we leave.

Tess said, "Why don't we take a walk? You can show me some of District 12." So we went outside. As soon as we were outside, Tess grabbed my face with her two hands and stared into my eyes. "You didn't write those letters did you?"

"No," I had to admit.

"Was it Prim or Mrs. Everdeen I was talking to?" I said nothing. Katniss was nowhere to be seen. Tom discreetly stayed a ways away.

With a wink in her eye, "Okay, keep your secrets, but they were very sweet letters. We need to talk, and I need you to trust me."

We started walking, and Tess grabbed my arm and leaned into me as we walked. "I never watch those games. No one in my family does, but when I heard about you and Katniss, well, I just had to see if it was true. Both of you were so brave and noble, …." Tess seemed on the edge of tears. "I guess I should introduce myself some, since you obviously did not read my letters. Of all the great houses, which once numbered in the dozens when my grandmother was young, there are only 3 now; Snow, Stone, and Book. My grandmother sister was Snow's first wife and likely the only person he truly loved, which has saved our family many times. So technically I am Snow's grandniece, which definitely helps at times, but we all live in fear of another great purge. I don't know if you realize it but Panem is on the verge of a second civil war. Everyone in power knows this."

She obviously was trying hard to get my trust, but I couldn't give it too easily, so I started with a test. "What is the Citadel?"

"Wow, how do you know that name? Never mind. As you might have guessed history is written by the victors, and what you learn in school only vaguely resembles what happened in the last civil war. As they told you, District 13 organized the other districts against the Capitol and was bombed heavily. What the textbooks leave out is that District 13 survived, hidden in a deep fortress, called the 'Citadel'."

"District 13 survived!" I say pretending to be more shocked then I was. The idea that the Capitol was lying to us had become part of my thought process.

"They have atomic missiles just like the Capitol does so complete destruction was impossible. So they in their Citadel have been waiting for a chance for another try at overthrowing the government. Snow uses the name Citadel to avoid even talking about District 13. He lives in constant fear of it."

I say, "So they have agents in the Districts organizing this revolt?"

"That is what Snow believes. He sees all revolt in terms of District 13, and yes, they are likely involved, but no one knows how much. Back to you, the game's goal is to cow the Districts but this time thanks to you and Katniss it didn't work. Snow has already started a mini purge, killing many people involved in the last game, including Seneca Crane, the doctors that worked on you, and many more. Snow was livid about the ending of the last game, and no one knows what is going to happen next, but you are going to be part of it."

I respond, "I'm not in the business of politics or war. Right now everything revolves around my promises to Katniss, and the people close to me."

Tess stopped walking and put her face right next to mine, our noses just a hair away from each other. "Peeta, when I heard what you did for Katniss, how you used your love as a weapon to protect her, I was amazed. You took my breath away. When I saw how brave both of you were I fell in love with the both of you. Then you two died….", She wiped a tear from her face. "And ever since then I have seen how hard you worked to protect your family and the Everdeens. It was like nothing I have ever seen before. You are a wonderful boy. You have shown everyone in Panem what we were supposed to be, but things are going to get ugly, and soon."

"I'm sorry, but for me things have been ugly ever since reaping day."

Tess took a large breath and let her chest fall before answering. "Peeta, one of the reasons I had to come was to prevent a bidding war on you. In the Capitol those in power know they can buy the company of Victors from Snow. I hope to prevent you from being forced into prostitution by being here with you."

Prostitution! Was that an option! I had to admit it had occurred to me charming people might lead to places I didn't want to go, but being sold! "You're staking a claim to me!"

"No, I am just a friend, but I am going to let it seem that I am. Not many people are willing to go against a Stone in a bidding war." We started walking again. "Peeta, I am going to help you, I promise you, but no one, not even a Stone, can stand against President Snow. We need to find a path that gives us what we want while keeping Snow happy. This is the way everyone who has survived in Panem does it."

We walked into the town and Tess wanted to be introduced to everyone as we went. All the people didn't know what to do. They had rarely seen a Capitol girl, and when they did the avoided making even eye contact, afraid they might stare or something, and end up in the whipping post. If it wasn't for me being a District 12 local hero, I am sure no one would talk to her, at least without being talked to first, but because of me they tried their best to be friendly.

We parted in town. On the way back home I walked as fast as I could, it was almost a run. I wanted to get back to the privacy of my room and get some answers, and I wanted them now. I stormed into the house, slamming doors, and getting confused looks from Caroline, who obviously wanted some answers too, but thought better when she saw my face. As soon as I entered my room I turned to Katniss who had followed me in from town. "Okay, Katniss what is this all about? What did you say to Tess?"

Katniss almost yelled, "Peeta, I love you!"

That stopped me for a second. We had been constantly together for months now, we had made love, I had taken in her family as mine, and in all this time she had never said this. On the other hand, I quickly realized it didn't explain anything. And her attempt at misdirection had made me just want to yell.

"Don't try to get me off topic. What is Tess all about?"

Katniss seemed almost in pain as she said, "Peeta, things have changed for me. You have always been special to me. Somehow you have always been there when I really needed someone. When my family and I were starving you saved us with bread. When I became a tribute you conspired to save me, and when I died you definitely brought me back. If I had been just a little braver I would have approached you years ago, but somehow you scared me. I guess I was scared of facing the truth, of admitting how much I owed you. But now you're my life, even more, you're what I would give life up for. Yes, I love you."

Part of me said I had gotten my heart's desire and I should stop this conversation here, but I knew there was more a lot more to what was going on here. "Katniss, I find that wonderful, but what about Tess?"

"Peeta, you have been looking out for me. It is time I start looking out for you."

It now dawns on me the depth of her conspiracy, "So you're hooking me up with women now?"

"Peeta, if you read her letters you would know she just wants to help you."

I can feel my anger building, "Don't act dumb, she doesn't even know me. She is a romantic fool caught up in the star crossed lover survivor story."

"Maybe, but just give her a chance. What did you know about me when you gave me the bread, or thought up the star crossed lover bit? You fell in love with my face and voice a long time before you knew anything about me, didn't you?"

Oh my god she is giving up on me, "I knew your soul, somehow I just did."

"Well maybe she knows your soul too."

"Katniss, I don't want any other woman. You have been and will always be the one I want."

"Peeta, you need so much more than I can give. You deserve to have a normal family life, to have children, grandchildren. You would be a great dad, but right now Tess is just a potential friend. But someday some girl will come along, someone you can make a future with, and if you give her up for me I will haunt you for real."

"But you're what I want. Through you I found a reason to live. This is all because of the day in the woods, isn't it? It might not be the same next time, or if you want there will never be another time, I can deal with that!"

"Peeta you have to understand, when we are apart I only feel half alive. When you hold me tight I feel almost normal, I need you so badly. I don't know if I can deal with staying apart, but I must." I grabbed her and she pushed me back. "Peeta, your future is out in the world of the living and not here with me. You're going to be a wonderful dad."

This time I slowly grabbed her and ever so slowly pulled her right against me. I looked into her eyes and said, "Katniss, I wanted you to be the mother of my children." I felt a tear run down my cheek and saw one on Katniss' face.

Katniss said. "Peeta, it is never going to happen, and I … I wish it were different." When I tried to kiss her she just pulled away and ran right through the wall.

She just disappeared for days. No matter how much I practiced my meditations nothing happened. I was sure she was somewhere nearby, but she was hiding from me and there was nothing I could do. I could make her visible but I can't force her to be near.

On the first day of Katniss's disappearance, I opened my front door to a Tess with no makeup, a simple white dress, and simple white shoes. She had gone into town and did all she could to make herself look like a normal District 12 girl. Without the makeup she still was very pale, but her cheeks were covered by hundreds of wonderful freckles. Her hair now hung in one long braid down her chest. She changed too, she seem shy without her makeup and won't meet my eyes. I knew she wondered how I felt about her conversion, but with Katniss gone I was in no mood, and gave her little encouragement. She brought hundreds of paints, they were of more colors than I knew existed, and on a better day I would be ecstatic at the chance to use them, but not today. No one who met me on that day went away happy.

On the second day of Katniss's disappearance, Tess showed up with plans for the exhibit hall and insisted that we go through all my art and figure out what to show and how I wanted them presented. We spent hours going through the details, and I started to feel bad about the way I was treating her. We spent a couple of hours painting together, and she really was good, she showed me a lot of techniques I never heard of, and before she left I think we really did have a good time. After she left I just wanted to kick myself, thinking Katniss could be watching and thinking she was right.

On that night, the night sky was a velvet black. The gem like stars lights seem to magnify the darkness that separated them. The chill of the night had removed all clouds and there was nothing separating me from the stars but the dark of the night. On my bedroom balcony I stared up into the sky imprisoned by its beauty. I couldn't help but reach up as if to touch the stars that seemed to just be right above my head. I felt a warm hand sneak into my left hand. In the dark I could not see anything next to me. I felt the fingers enrapt mine, and a smile instantly came to my face. We stood like this a long time. I didn't want to say anything. Just holding her hand made me happy and talking to her seemed a risky thing.

I wanted to say I am sorry, but I wasn't. I wasn't sorry I loved her, nor was I sorry she loved me. I was sorry we both were in pain. I wanted to persuade her that idea of finding me a mate was hopeless. I wanted to say that I will spend the rest of my life with her and be happy, but I know she won't buy it. Until I can prove to her that I can make her real with my new abilities without killing myself, she won't buy it.

I say to her "Katniss, was it because of her wealth and position you chose Tess."

"You need someone who can help you with the Capitol and President Snow, only someone like her can help you, but I wouldn't have gone through with it if I didn't think you and her wasn't a match. Her letters were filled with care and worry about you. She is even an artist like you. She just sounded perfect. You do like her don't you." As she spoke the tears started streaming down my face and I was so glad it is dark she can't see me.

Doing the best to not sound like I am crying I say, "She is a wonderful woman. She is pretty, kind, and I do like her."

Katniss says "Do you think….". She just stops there. I knew we had both gone as far as we could without either me or her running off again. We didn't' say anything to each other for the rest of the night.


	14. Juggling Secrets

**Juggling Secrets**

I stood out in the field, looking up into the deep blue sky. Slowly I began to walk backwards, never breaking my stare. I raised my arms . . . I had it; I knew I had it—but then the ball bounced on the ground right next to me. In shock I wasted precious seconds before running after the ball. Damn, damn, damn.

When I finally got to the ball and threw it toward the third baseman I knew it was too late. As I walked back to my position in the outfield, I waited for the jibes and comments from my fellow players, but received nothing. When I looked toward Thomas at second base, he just smiled and shook his head. My friends knew I was losing the game for them, but they didn't care. Part of me thought that it was a shame to be treated like a cripple, but mostly I was just glad to be there in the sun with people I care about, playing ball.

When my friends showed up at my front door that morning I was totally shocked. I am a Victor, local hero, most famous living person in District 12, richest person in town, and the town crazy who keeps getting caught talking to himself—what I am not is a simple District 12 boy. Everyone treats me different and never lets me forget what I went through; even my friends have treated me so differently that I haven't had a moment of pure fun since I returned. So it was a shock to see this group of old friends on my doorstep, all in their game clothes, with bats, balls, and gloves.

My old friend Thomas, the tall blond, said, "Hey, Peeta, did you sleep in? Where is your glove?"

I felt a huge wave of emotion, but I made an effort to control myself. "Hey, guys, come on in. The kitchen is that way—get yourself some drinks while I get dressed." I ran up the stairs; I had to get out of the room as quickly as possible so I didn't look too eager. The idea of being a kid again, of playing ball again, of being with my friends and just acting like the old Peeta was just so great!

Up in my room, I said to Katniss, "Can I have today to myself?"

Katniss smiled and said just before she disappeared, "Sure, you go have some fun."

Out in the sun with my friends was great, but different. Yes, they included me and tried to act like nothing happened, but they couldn't ignore the fact that I was doing a terrible job of playing ball. Maybe it was from not playing for so long, maybe it was my new leg—either way, I was not hitting or catching well at all. Worst yet, instead of yelling at me, they ignored it. I was being coddled, I knew it, but I could accept it as long as I got to play. I may wish things were the way they used to be, but I accept the fact that things have changed.

As we played the game we had a small audience: there are always a few small kids who watch the big kids play ball, but today there was an auburn-haired girl and one very large man watching too. While I awaited my turn to bat again, Thomas talked to me.

"I see your friend Tess is here," Thomas said as he pointed her out. "How did you two meet, Peeta?"

I paused for a second, considering what I should say. "It's complicated, but basically she and I just started talking to each other through letters."

Thomas smiled. "Well, she may be weird, but I like her. She heard I was one of your friends somehow and just showed up on my doorstep a couple days ago. She did the same thing to everyone here."

"She did? What did she say to you?"

Thomas got as serious a face as I had ever seen on him and said, "She told us we were failing as friends. She told us you needed us more now than anytime in your life, and we were just sitting on the sidelines."

It seems I have another thing to thank Tess for.

"So that's why you invited me back into the game."

"Peeta, she was right and we knew it. I'm not sure why we haven't invited you before, why we never came over . . . I guess we didn't know what to say to you. You went through so much—what can words do for someone who went through those damn games?"

By that point, I'd had enough of that serious stuff. "Thanks, I'm loving this. Now if only I could remember how to play," I said with a laugh.

Thomas snickered. "Like you were any good before."

"Oh, that hurts."

After the game I finally went over to see Tess. She had on her simple District 12 dress, though this one seemed a brighter green, unlike any other I'd seen here.

"Well, Tess, did you enjoy the game?"

Tess stuttered a little as she tried to avoid her native accent, "I am . . . I am sorry, I don't know this game. Who won?"

She was trying so hard to fit in and help me that you couldn't help but like her.

"We lost," I informed her.

"I am sorry you lost, but you had fun, right?"

"Yeah, I had fun, and they told me what you said to them. I thought I should say thank you."

"Peeta, I know how it is being rich and famous. I grew up with people avoiding me or just treating me weird. I use to sneak away with a couple of my friends into the city and pretend we were all just nobodies for the day." She stopped and smiled as she remembered. "Me and my friends had pretend names; we even managed fake IDs. Tom got really good at following me without being noticed back then. I so enjoyed talking to people and them just talking to me, or even telling me to shove off. That is one thing I really like about District 12: While everyone here thinks I am a crazy Capital girl, they don't know anything about my family, its wealth or power. I am just a very strange girl here."

I nodded in understanding. "I grew up here—these people have known me my whole life and now they think I'm weird too. They're all so kind, but it doesn't feel real anymore. They don't react correctly. They seem to want to honor me, even when I just want to talk."

Her face formed a serious frown as she said, "That is a good thing, Peeta! You went through so much and now you are starting to feel the urge to return to a normal life. You are healing. It is like the itching of a scabbed-over wound."

Before I could say anything she tilted her head and said, "Do you think you could teach me to play your game?"

"The game is baseball. And sure, if you want. I guess I could teach you, but it's not my call if you get on the team. Maybe we could start by just throwing the ball back and forth," I suggested as I tossed her the ball. To my amazement she easily caught it and just hurled it way up in the air; she then bent down, grabbed two stones that lay by her feet, and threw them up too. Soon I was just staring as she juggled them in one pattern to another.

A big smile spread across her lips as she said, "Well, I think I got this throwing and catching thing down pat."

She looked so cute there just juggling—it made me want to laugh.

"Now where did you learn that?" I asked, grinning.

Her smile became a little sly as she said, "My family spent a small fortune getting me the best private teachers they could find. Unfortunately for them I was more interested in the odd ball things the teachers knew. My old algebra teacher taught me a lot more about juggling than he ever taught me about the quadratic equation."

I took her unspoken challenge and said, "I've learned a couple tricks too." I grabbed one of her rocks out of the air and hid it in my fist. I put my hand right in front of her face so Tom couldn't see, and just pushed a little with my mind. When I opened my hand, the stone had become a rose. When I saw the big amazed smile on her face, I knew it had worked. I closed my hand and opened it again, and once again it was a rock.

Tess gave me a small joking shove. "Peeta! You do magic too! You have to teach me!"

"A good magician never tells his secrets. Come on home—I'm having a small party with my friends."

All the way home she juggled rocks and bugged me for my magic secret. Every time I assured her I wouldn't tell her how I do my magic she added another rock to her juggle and said, "How about now?" All I could do was laugh with amusement as we made our way through the district to my home.


	15. In the moonlight

**In the moonlight**

It was an uneventful Saturday night. Caroline and Prim had insisted on making an early dinner by themselves for me, and we were just sitting around talking. Katniss was seated by the fireplace watching the flames.

When the doorbell rang, Caroline popped up and got the door. In a minute she called me over, so Prim and I went.

At the door there were two lovely blonde ladies decked-out in their best dancing clothes, all smiles. Looking back at the smirks on Caroline and Prim's faces, I deduced that it was obviously a setup. I knew the girls; I even knew the dresses.

Delly and Madge had known me from childhood. Delly had on those lovely boots her father made for her and her pale blue dance dress. Madge had her favorite white dress on too, and it was obvious they were on their way to the school dance. Both Madge and Delly did a small chuckle and a very formal curtsey and said, "Peeta Mellark, Madge Undersee and Delly Cartwrite would like to request your company to the school dance."

I laughed. "I'm afraid I don't attend school anymore."

The girls got up, giggling, and Madge said, "Peeta, we have a very clever scheme to sneak you in: we'll hide you between two beautiful girls."

"Peeta, come on!" Delly chimed in. "It will be fun! Everyone has been asking why you haven't attended before. I can promise you will have fun—there is not a girl in town who won't want to dance with you."

"What's keeping you?" Caroline chided. "Go on!"

"Go on—have some fun," Katniss said, having abandoned the fire to peer over my shoulder.

I couldn't help but smile. "Well, I guess I should change into party clothes."

"Come on, what you're wearing now is already going to show up every boy there," Prim said assuredly. "Give the other boys at least some chance."

Delly and Madge each grabbed one of my arms, and they started to drag me off. I yelled back to my three girls on my doorstep, "Don't wait up for me!"

Caroline answered, "We won't."

The school cafeteria was its own cinderblock, pale green building. It had large windows and fans to help with the summer heat, and really didn't look like much. On the last Saturday of every month they would take out most of the chairs and tables, build a makeshift stage, put up sashes and ribbons, disable most of the lights, and use their best imagination to convert the pale green monster into a grand ballroom for the young people to meet each other. I loved those dances; I never remember ever seeing Katniss at them, but I never missed one. I loved the girls, the dances, just being with friends, shooting the breeze. From what I saw of parties in the Capitol, they were a million times more expensive, but still—these people could teach the Capitol so much about how to have fun.

Even before we got into the cafeteria we were mobbed by a group of people. I was surrounded. All around me were smiling couples, eagerly watching me.

Someone said, "Come on, Peeta. Show us your magic!"

I look around at their eager faces, and I did want to give them what they requested, but I was afraid. Could I really project to them all to see the same thing? What would happen if someone saw something else? "I don't know. I've never done it for so many people before."

The girl on my right said, "How does that matter?"

Well, sooner or later I would have to try it on groups, so I relented. "Okay, okay, anyone have something small—something I can hide in the palm of my hand?"

The girl on my right pulled off her little wooden leaf earring and put it in my right hand. I closed my hand and told her, "Okay, now blow on my hand, will you?" She obeyed; I opened my hand and pushed, with my mind, as hard as I could, making me feel a little nauseous. I opened my hand. I quickly scanned their faces to see if anyone didn't see the rose. They all seemed to say in unison, "Wow! How did you do that?"

I closed my hand and opened it again. "Here's your earring again."

The whole group applauded and congratulated me, though I heard one of the boys explain to his girlfriend how I palmed the earring as they walked off. I turned to Delly and Madge with an uncontrollable smile. "Well, who wants to dance first?"

I danced and danced. After Delly and Madge there was a seemly endless series of beautiful young girls. For once it was really nice to be me, to be so famous it seemed every girl wanted to dance. Some of them did not dance as well as others, but they all seemed so nice and interested in me and everything I said. I felt like the world's greatest wit.

Between dances, all the guys wanted to talk to me too. Not a single serious word, no games, no Katniss—just jokes and gossip. The guys would pull their hidden flasks from their hiding spots and refresh my drink, and they too would laugh and laugh at my jokes. Dance, laugh, drink and then more; I did it for hours. I felt those people's love for me. The love was partially relief that they hadn't been thrust into the games as I had, but there was more than that. They were not only proud of my survival, but _how_ I survived. Katniss and I had somehow kept our humanity, giving hope to those people.

All the alcohol was getting to me, and I was starting feel a real buzz when I first noticed her: Delly had her pinned in a corner, talking her ear off.

Tess had on a very simple, very small black dress—maybe too small. I stared at her for a while, enjoying her discomfort and her legs. What nice legs she had; my eyes slowly trailed over her black high heels, ankles, shapely calves, knees, wonderful thighs, and then I pulled away to stare into my drink.

So many wonderful girls were there, and I had Katniss. I should've stayed away from that one—that one was trouble; I could feel it in my heart. Still, the little black dress clung so nicely to her. It may have been simpler than anything in the Capitol, but still it put to shame every other girl there. I was in deep trouble.

I chuckled to myself, thinking about poor Tess having to deal with Delly, when I felt a shove. I glanced behind me: Katniss looked mad and was waving for me to save Tess. Not even thinking of what talking to Katniss would look like to onlookers, I said to the confused couple dancing behind me, "Okay, okay, I'll go save her."

When I got to Tess I said to her, ignoring Delly, "You owe me a dance."

Tess put down her drink, looking concerned. "Okay, but are you sure you can dance? Maybe we should sit for a while."

Delly grabbed my arm and tried to pull me to a chair, saying, "Oh, Peeta, you've had too much. Why don't you sit down here? We were just talking about the old days . . ."

I grabbed Tess' arm and started to pull her away; I knew there was nothing I could say to stop Delly from talking. "Come on, Tess, you promised."

Tess waved good-bye to Delly, and we moved amongst the couples. They were dancing a slow dance, and we had to force our way into the crowd.

Tess looked confused as she said, "I don't remember promising you a dance."

"Well, do you want to go back to Delly?" I muttered with a smirk.

She chuckled slyly. "Well, no."

I simply whispered, "Okay," and extended my hand. She took it, her fingers tenderly lacing with mine. As we tried to figure out how to start, we gazed into each other's eyes a little too long, and I felt my nerves creep up.

I managed to break the intensity of the way I stared at her beautiful blue eyes and began the dance. I was always proud of my dancing skills, but she was fantastic! She anticipated my every move, gliding around me with controlled precision. She wore a simple grin, proving to me that she was enjoying it, but her gaze was steeled on my chest, avoiding my eyes.

I was really enjoying our little dance when I stumbled and she caught me. We clutched each other tightly, supporting my weight together. We were completely in each other's arms, and at first she watched my eyes with concern, then with fascination. After we broke apart, we starting circling each other slowly, exploring each other's eyes. I couldn't imagine ever wanting to stop, and I knew she didn't want to either. It felt so nice.

I wasn't sure how long the exchange went on; I had completely lost track of time when I finally noticed out of the corner of my eye that the room was empty. I felt a panic—what had I been projecting? What did Tess see? What did everyone else see?

The room soon filled with people again, so I said to Tess, "Maybe some fresh air would be good." _What did they see?_ As I pulled Tess through the crowd, I heard some guy say, "Where did they come from?"

As soon as we passed through the doors, we were bathed in the cold glow of a bright summer's full moon. The music was still loud, even outside. Katniss was nowhere in sight. When I looked over at the smiling Tess in that so-short black dress, I forgot why I even brought her out there. I shouldn't have drunk so much.

Tess put her arm around me, obviously worried I might fall. "You okay, Peeta? Do you feel ill?"

"No. You didn't see anything, did you?" I asked nervously.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I guess I shouldn't drink so much." I looked around, but there was no Katniss and no Tom. "Where's Tom?"

"Oh, he knows how to be invisible when he wants to." Tess put her hand on my chin, directing my eyes to hers. "Peeta, maybe it was my imagination, but we just . . . you know . . . had a moment."

I was shocked. She just said it. I was trying to figure some way to dance around it and then she just said it. "I guess so."

She wouldn't let me fluff it off. "Do you like me?"

I wanted to fluff it off. I obviously liked her, but how could I tell her I was holding out for a dead girl? "I suppose that's a simple question, but can you understand why I don't feel free to answer?"

She finally let go of my chin and murmured, "I understand it. I don't like it, but I understand it. Peeta, I'm not trying to force anything on you. You've been through a lot, more than anyone should have to go through. All I want to do is help. I just wonder if maybe I could help more if you trusted me more."

I felt caught; nothing I could do would feel right. Trying to be as honest as possible, I said, "I do trust you. Maybe I don't trust myself. Would you feel better or worse if I said I trust you only second to Katniss?"

She smiled. "I think I would be honored. Maybe we should get you home."

"Yeah, I think that would be a good idea."

So we slowly started walking back to the Victor's Village, our arms wrapped around each other. Although we only needed to hold each other so close to keep me upright, I couldn't avoid thinking of how much I enjoyed it.

"So," I began, "how does a dance in a school cafeteria in District 12 compare to the Capitol's grand ballrooms?"

"You'd be surprised how many really bad dances and parties I've been to in the Capitol," Tess admitted. "What makes life and parties really interesting are the people, and most people in the Capitol are bores. My grandmother knew Snow as a boy and how this all started, and she survived. She's interesting. Tom has survived dozens of life-and-death situations. He's interesting. People whose only accomplishment is organizing a party are bores."

"You really do like Tom, don't you?" I asked.

"I love Tom. He's here protecting me because he wants to. My father died many years ago in a purge, and Tom has become family to me. I know he never talks in front of you, but when no one is looking he really is great company, and I know no one will ever harm me as long as he lives. In some ways he reminds me of you and Katniss. He's just so brave and honorable."

For the rest of the walk home I tried to avoid any serious talk by teaching her some of my favorite songs. So we sang all the way home. When we finally reached my front door, I turned to face her. Her eyes sparkled with moonlight, and she looked so eager and cute; I figured I'd just give her a quick friendly little kiss to let her know how much I appreciate her. I bent down; her other arm curled around me, and our lips just locked together.

What felt like a bolt of lightning ran down my spine as her body seemed to melt into my arms. When we finally parted, I gasped, just then remembering to breathe. Tess had such a satisfied smile on her face as I quickly said, "Ahhh . . . goodnight!"

She whispered, "Goodnight . . ." as I hurriedly closed the door on her. _Damn, I am in so much trouble! What have I gotten myself into now? Damn, she's a good kisser! _My knees began to shake, and that was the last full memory I have.

When I awoke in my room it was filled with light and a cool breeze. It must have been near noon. I had a terrible hangover, but what got my attention was Katniss lying on the bed right next to me. She was stroking my hair and crying. I wasn't sure what was going on; I started searching my memory for clues, and then I got really worried.

I started to say, "Katniss, it was nothing—" when she covered my lips with her hand before giving me a long, loving kiss. She pulled back so she was just an inch from my face, and I started to play with her hair, too.

She merely said, "She's the one."

_Damn, she must have seen the kiss!_ _I am in so much trouble!_"No, Katniss, I was drunk! You can't hold something against a guy that he does when he's that shit-faced!"

Tears were running down her cheeks. "Peeta, it's okay. I'm happy, really."

_This can't be happening!_ "Listen, I was projecting to everyone there, hundreds of people, and I didn't even feel ill! I could have danced with you. I could have put you right there in the middle of the crowd and danced with you! I would have. I should have."

I could see the angry face of hers I'd come to know all too well as her voice raised. "Don't talk crazy! I'm dead!"

"You are here, so you can't be dead!" I yelled back, knowing how the argument would end.

She pulled away and got out of my bed. "I may not be able to leave you completely, but if you keep talking like that, I'll stay away from you."

I could feel my anger build building as I yelled, "Here we go again! You're going to run off and hide from me!"

"What else am I to do?" she pleaded. "You're just so unreasonable!"

My face had grown heated, turning redder by the second. "_I'm_ unreasonable? Maybe I am, but you thought better of my unreasonableness when it was trying to save your life!"

"That's over, Peeta. I'm over. You can't hide from the facts forever!"

She never seemed to understand it, but I tried again. "If you are over, _why are you still here?_"

"Forcing everyone else to see me doesn't solve your problems! You need to face your problems!"

I pointed at her and said, "Right now my problem is you telling me what to do!"

A panicked banging was rattling my door, and I heard Caroline yelling with a trembling voice, "Peeta, are you okay? What's going on? Please, Peeta, open the door!"

Katniss was crimson as she screamed, "Do you even listen to yourself? Sometimes you sound so _crazy_!"

It was all so predictable. I know where it was going, but this time she was going to pay. "Crazy! Unreasonable! That's it—you can just live with a tail!" For a second she stood transfixed on me; I had truly shocked her. Then she slowly looked behind herself: she saw a long, hairy tan tail with a puff of hair at the end—a lion's tail. She looked back at me with an anger I've never seen directed at me. She screamed and ran right through me, into the wall. I felt like someone punched me in the stomach.

I opened the door to see a terrified Caroline with eyes as big as plates. In the calmest voice I could muster, I managed, "Oh, good morning, Caroline. I'm afraid I had a terrible nightmare. Could you get me a cup of coffee? Thanks." Then I slammed the door in her face.

As soon as the door was shut I called out, "And naked!" The walls started to shake as pictures and books began to fall, and I could hear Katniss knocking thing down all over the house. The train of chaos slowly got further and further away.

In the hall Caroline was screaming in panic from all the chaos, and I yelled out, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I lost my temper! You can have your clothes back!" Damn, she could make me angrier than anyone I have ever known. I never lost my temper with anyone like that before, not even when my mother beat me! Then I added under my breath, "But you can keep the tail."

I wouldn't see Katniss for a long while. I wondered how long.

_How did I screw up so badly?_


	16. Duck Hunting

**Duck Hunting**

The bridge was old; it was much older than District 12. People claim it was built long before the Great War by some ancient rich family whose name "Raven" is still carved in its granite. The bridge still spans the stone-laden river which splits the district. On each side, a continual line of huge oaks covered the river and its bridge, making a cool and dark place even in the middle of summer.

I sat on a branch up in an old oak tree, overlooking the bridge, watching and waiting. It was hard climbing the tree, but it wasn't my fake leg's fault. I never was good at climbing. For Katniss it was a lot easier. She sat next to me, waiting quietly. Soon our prey would arrive, so we waited patiently.

They were walking together side by side, a young boy and a girl. They were our prey.

I recognized the boy—he was Rory Hawthorn—and of course I recognized the girl: she was my adopted niece, Prim. They both carried their books, but were walking far too slow, like they really didn't want to get anywhere. Last night Katniss had waked me from a sound sleep, wanting to talk to me about what she had found in Prim's diary. I listen to her for the longest time waiting for an apology or something for the big fight that had kept us apart for days, but nothing. I might as well ignore the angry words we exchanged if she was. I knew it was pointless to complain to Katniss that she shouldn't have read a girl's diary. What she learned had upset her so much that I had no choice but to intervene. If I didn't do something, she might have done something on her own.

They both stopped on the bridge, holding hands as they talked. Rory leaned over, and their lips became one. I glanced toward Katniss, who was florid with anger, and I knew I would have to do something fast. I imaged the first thing I could think of, then pushed.

Rory started swatting at the air as he backed up yelping. If you looked closely you could see a black dot zooming around his head.

Swatting at the air, Rory yelled, "Damn, that is a big bee!"

Katniss' face regained its color as she smiled with surprise. "Peeta! Are you doing that?"

I couldn't help but smile at Rory's comical gesticulations as I said, "You like? How about this?" The dot disappeared, and Rory started patting at his shirt, desperate to remove the bug crawling underneath. Prim started whacking at his chest too. I began to feel really bad about what I was doing; I had let it go too far.

Katniss' smile turned to concern. "You're getting too good at that. There's something just not right about reaching into people's heads. But I must say, I enjoyed it."

In the distance you could hear Gale calling, "Rory! You get here right now!" Rory ran off.

Katniss was surprised. "Peeta, you did Gale's voice too!"

I started to feel bad about what I did. I had reached into a boy's head and made him hallucinate just because he wanted to kiss my niece. Or maybe I did it to please Katniss—either way, I didn't feel right about it. "Yeah, I thought I'd tortured Rory enough. Now the hard part: I need to talk to Prim. What should I say?"

At the mention of Prim, Katniss got angry again. "Tell her she is just too young for kissing boys! Tell her she is stupid to trust a boy! Tell her her mom is _going_ to tan her hide!"

How I wished I wasn't there. "Okay. Okay. I'll make something up." I took a big breath and got to my feet.

When Prim finally passed the tree I was in, I jumped down. From just a few feet behind her I said, "Prim, what are you doing here?"

Prim jumped so forcefully I felt bad for scaring her so. I had already felt bad for what I did to Rory, so I just want it to be over.

Prim's voice went up an octave as she said, "Uncle! Where did you come from? What are you doing here?"

"I was watching a girl meet a boy on the bridge," I said plainly, Katniss coming up behind me.

I had never seen Prim lie to me before, and now I could see why. She was so bad at it. "I was just walking home from school. Rory was just walking with, that's all."

"Oh, what a little liar! Peeta, tell her she is too young!" Katniss said.

Watching Prim struggle, I pitied her and said, "Prim, before you dig yourself any deeper in trouble, I saw everything."

Now Prim changed from lying to pleading. "You're not going to tell Mom, are you?"

"No, but you are."

"She better!" Katniss snapped.

"Prim, sit with me a while." I walked over to a fallen tree log. "You need to talk to me some. I need to understand what you are doing and why."

We sat on the log, all three of us. Prim hung her head and said, "Me and Rory, well, we just like each other. We haven't done anything."

"She is too young. Peeta, tell her she is too young!" Katniss pleaded.

I knew Prim felt bad about it, and so did I. I wanted her to know that I was on her side, that Katniss and I would always be there for her, protecting her from everything we could, even her own immature decisions.

"Prim, you are only twelve," I said firmly. "You need some time to figure some things out, and you don't need to rush anything. If you wait, you'll know what you want, and at least have a chance of getting what you need. I know Rory—he's a good kid, but he needs time too; he could end up doing something he'll regret later. I am not your mother, but if you want to see him, have him over. I'm sure your mom won't mind—just no more sneaking about."

She got a sad look on her face and pleaded, "Uncle, we don't know if we have any time. Next year me or Rory could be gone like Katniss."

That hit hard, because it was dead-on. Next year there would be another reaping, and Prim or Rory could be gone. I could just say it won't happen, or I won't let it happen, but of course it was possible. In the back of my mind, I couldn't help but think that they will pick Prim again. It would be just the kind of weird revenge by the Capitol I have learned to expect from them.

In shock, Katniss almost yelled, "Oh, Peeta, they wouldn't—they couldn't!"

I was really upset at that thought, but I knew I had to be the adult and be rational. I took a big breath before saying, "Prim, you can't organize your life around possibilities like that. We must bravely face this world, not give in to it. It's what Katniss would want for you!"

"You told me you fell in love with Katniss when you were five years old!" Prim argued. "So why is it so different for me?"

Thinking back on all that my love for Katniss had done for me—and to me—I felt like I was on an emotional cliff. _How can I explain to her how precious Katniss is to me while being honest about the sheer pain it has caused?_ "Prim, my love was great and strong, a force of nature, but it has cost me so much. I want you to have a normal love. I want it all to work so much better for you than it did for me."

Prim grabbed me and held me in an embrace. "It's okay, Uncle. I'm sorry. I should have never spoken to you so."

I had to work hard to say it in my current state, but I say. "Prim, you know I will protect you for the rest of my life, if they call your name I will volunteer, and take the place of whatever boy was picked. If you are called you will be the victor! You promise to talk to your mom when we get home?"

Katniss' eyes watered at my dedication and love towards her little sister, and she whispered a gentle "Thank you," behind me.

Prim puts her arm around me to console me. "Yes, Uncle Peeta, I'll talk to her. I'm sorry—I didn't mean to hurt you."

We got up and began walking back home. It wasn't till we were almost there when Prim spoke again. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure. I think today is the day for that kind of thing."

"What is Tess to you?" Prim asked bluntly.

At that Katniss turned and watched me closely. I knew that she had wanted to ask that of me for a while. Whenever Tess came over, Katniss would just disappear.

"Wow, we are getting personal today!" I laughed. "No, no, it's okay. Tess is a marvelous girl; she makes me feel young again. She looks out for me, and I've learned to depend on her."

Prim gave me a sly smile. "I think she _really_ does like you."

"Peeta, she does love you," Katniss chimed in.

I looked down to the ground to hide my face as I said, "I think so too."

"So do you think you two might someday get together?" Prim asked.

Now that Prim had asked the question—the question Katniss wanted to ask—I tried to phrase it toward the both of them. "I don't know. I really think Katniss would like me to move on. I do need someone, but I'm not sure I can do it. Part of me can't give up on Katniss, even now. I know it sounds crazy, but I just can't let go."

Katniss looked sad and a little shocked, then just slowly dissolved. Her eyes were the last things to disappear, and I felt so convicted by them.

Prim, ignorant of the drama, just said, "No pressure, but I think you would be a great dad. And I would love to have some nieces and nephews."


	17. Banshees

**Banshees**

The night was quiet, just like all other nights in District 12. Nothing disturbed the darkness, certainly not the two trucks on the side of the road full of agents of District 13. They had stolen the trucks and parked them right outside of a tall two-story wooden home without even a close call. Marcus and Remu were in front of the first truck, dressed all in black. Remu was studying two displays in his lap. On one display in false color he could see every living thing moving outside for two blocks, and in the other he could watch the people stirring in the house. While he couldn't see faces, he could easily make out the young girls brushing their teeth and crawling into bed, and then the two adults climbing into theirs.

Marcus sat there amazed at how lax the district's Peacekeepers were. In any other district their plot would be impossible, but it was so easy in Twelve. It made him wonder how long it would take the Capitol to even notice if they took over the whole district.

Remu put away the displays and turned to Marcus. "Why are we here?"

Marcus looked puzzled by the question and answered, "To get information from these people."

Remu shook his head. "No, I mean this whole mission. The story you gave at camp wasn't very believable. What are we doing here?"

"I will give you an answer, but it'll cost you. They didn't give me an exec—how would you like that job? There will be no extra pay, and if we get caught you must die, but on the plus side everyone will have to call you 'sir,' and you'll get to know how deep the shit we're in is."

Remu smiled widely and said, "If we get caught, do I get to shoot you before I shoot myself?"

Marcus became a little upset at the thought of dying, but he played along. "Sure. Why not? Someone will have to do it." He pulled a small tablet from his shirt, pressed his thumb to its front, and began whispering to the device.

"Okay, your turn," he murmured. "Put your thumb on the red spot so it can sample your DNA, and then whisper two things to the device, one true, one untrue. What you say must not be verifiable or guessable by anyone, including me. The true statement will be your login from now on; if you ever say the false statement to the device again it will self-destruct. If I die you must take my ring and the tablet—the ring must be worn by a living registered officer and within 10 meters of the tablet at all times. I gave you a battlefield promotion and upgraded your security rating. After you log in ask for the file Götterdämmerung."

"Sir, this report refers to Banshees and Surans," Remu pointed out after he read the report's contents. "What do they have to do with one another?"

Marcus slowly shook his head. "Really! They don't teach anything about history in school anymore, do they? You know, after the war I think I'll spend the rest of my life as a history teacher—God knows this country needs history teachers."

"Sir . . ." Remu muttered, again demonstrating his lack of tact.

"They are two names for the same thing. Back in the old world there was a group of people who called themselves 'Surans,' because they had medical devices made by the Suran Medical Industries, Inc. Other people called them Banshees because of their nasty habit of screaming."

"Screaming?" Remu queried.

Marcus took a big breath and said, "Okay. When they screamed, it was a psychic scream. People for miles around would hear the scream with their heads, not their ears, and it would stun and frighten them so that most people would run away in fear."

Remu's face lit up. "Wow, now I remember something about that. When I was a kid, other kids would tell stories about screaming monsters. I thought they were full of crap."

Marcus continued on in his teacher's voice, "The story goes like this: Long ago, back in the old world, back when the world was filled with billions of people and technological wonders beyond our dreams, the Suran Medical Company created a series of microscopic robots, nanobots, to operate on individual cells. These nanobots could fix most any problem a cell was having, up to and including reanimation of a cell. There were other companies doing the same thing at the time, but the Suran Company added a wrinkle, a sentient computer they would add to a person's body to direct the nanobots: the InterDoc. The InterDoc was specifically designed for brain injuries. When someone had severe brain damage, they would insert the InterDoc, and it would find all the damaged brain cells and fix them all up; then people had to have half their brain blown away before things got serious."

"Sounds great! But something went wrong, I'm guessing," Remu said.

"Yeah, the InterDoc worked great—too great. It didn't stop after fixing all injuries: it started to find inefficiencies it could fix and improvements it could make. Soon the people with the device were smarter than anyone else. Then the InterDoc found underused abilities in the brain, psychic abilities it could improve on. So now these people were smarter than everyone else _and_ possessed psychic abilities. After a while they learned to hijack other people's minds and make them see things."

"Wow," Remu mused, "so that is how the old world ended!"

"No, the human race at that point split into two camps, humans and Surans, but for a while the peace held. We don't know who or what started the Great War, but when people started dying by the billions, the Surans decided that if only a few were to survive, it would be them. After the Great War, what was left of humans was halved again by the war with the Surans. When we fought the Surans we depended on mass attacks over long periods to overcome their abilities. In other words, we let them kill us all day until they got really tired, and then one huge push. Since they could make our soldiers see whatever they wanted, we had to train our soldiers to throw down their weapons as soon as they saw anything weird, like their mother with a birthday cake. They were trained to sit there and wait for death; if they picked up a weapon they would just be fooled into killing a fellow soldier. At least while they were sitting there they were keeping a Suran's mind busy."

"And what does that have to do with us and Peeta Mellark?" Remu asked.

"All use of nanobots or InterDoc have been banned since the war. No one, not even Snow, would dare to get near that stuff until Doctor Lucus came along. The good doctor was convinced he could cripple the nanobots and InterDoc to the point where they would fix the person's brain and go to sleep. He convinced some in the government to let him do animal research on his theories, I am confident without President Snow even knowing about it. At the end of the last Hunger Games a series of things happened that I won't go into now, and low and behold, Peeta Mellark gets an InterDoc."

Remu began slowly, "So you think Peeta Mellark is the last Suran . . . or should I say Banshee. It may not be a bad thing. Hell, maybe the doctor is right and it did no more than fix his brain, or even if he becomes a full Suran, he seems like a nice kid—he might be a real help."

"The last war with Surans almost caused the extinction of humans," Marcus said grimly. "I don't believe that just because they have special powers they are evil; I believe because they have special powers we will never be at peace with them. The Surans might have been better than us in many ways, but all the evil in us is still in them. Peeta Mellark is the first, but as soon as people know it's an option, every overly ambitious parent will want their child to have that advantage. They will naturally beat us at everything they want to do, and we will hate them for it. For their part they will totally distrust us. Sooner or later there will be another war, and given the numbers, the end may leave the earth to the apes."

"I wonder how well the apes will do?" Remu joked before squinting at the records. "What is this section about Katniss Everdeen doing here?"

"Peeta believes that the female tribute, Katniss Everdeen, is a ghost and visits him. We stole a report on him and his psychosis. It is full of observations made by the doctors of him talking to her during his recovery up to the time he returned home."

Remu interrupted with, "Oh my God, he's insane! Poor kid. I guess it's too much to ask of anyone to come out of those games whole. Or are you going to tell me Surans can talk to the dead?"

Marcus looked a little sad as he said, "No, dead is dead. But Surans can make you see anything they want. I guess you won't be surprised if I told you half of the nurses tending to him were on anti-psychotics by the time he left."

"So when you were about to shoot Peeta Mellark earlier, you were trying to kill a psychotic Banshee who you believe will cause the end of mankind? Is that a fair statement?"

Marcus paused, considering all the things he could say, and then muttered, "Yes."

"Then why didn't you do it?"

Marcus paused, wondering how honest he should be. "Maybe because my orders are to co-op Peeta Mellark. Maybe because he really is a kind boy and none of this is his fault. Maybe I started to doubt myself when I came face-to-face with Katniss Everdeen. Something in my gut, not my brain, said she's real. Enough of this for now—I think it's time we visit these people."

Remu pushed the button, notifying everyone to get ready. "Sir, don't forget your nose plugs—this is really going to stink!"

Marcus wore a sad grin as he said, "I'm the only one who won't get that luxury."

Remu laughed openly at his commander's troubles.

They both donned their black hoods, and Remu alone put in his nose plugs. The two trucks were emptied silently. With sure, fast motions the two groups split, one to enter the back door and another through the front.


	18. Meet and Greet

**Meet and Greet**

Men were going from dark room to dark room; whenever they found a sleeping person they quickly drugged her with a shot from a needle, until they found the man they were looking for. Outside the house no sound or light gave warning to any neighbors. The estate was relatively large, and it took them a while to search every room of both floors.

Marcus was nervous and started pacing back and forth in the dark kitchen. It was a nice big kitchen—he was dealing with a successful District 12 businessman. He knew that what he was trying to do here was very hard to get right. The correct way to interrogate people involved a long process of questions and cross-verifying facts, but he'd only have a couple of hours at best. Scared people can freeze up and say nothing, they can just sit there and scream, or they can just make up whatever they think you want to hear; he needed to manage it carefully. What he needed was to make the interrogation more about surprise than fear.

He moved a chair to the middle of the kitchen and put a spotlight on the ceiling to make sure the prisoner wouldn't be able to see anything when he placed him in the chair. Soon one of the soldiers came down with a man all tied up and gagged. Marcus compared the prisoner's face to his picture and pointed to the chair. One large man took position behind the prisoner once he sat.

Marcus took off his hood and got down so he was looking up at the prisoner. He was staring at a face rather chubby for that district, with blond hair and wild, scared darting eyes. Marcus knew he needed to calm him down before getting started.

"Before we talk," he began, "I want you to know we mean you and your family no harm. When we leave later we plan to have you, your wife, and daughters all safe. Right now the girls are all in a heavy drug-induced sleep, but perfectly safe. We are not interested in anything you own and have no association with the government. We don't plan on ever telling you who we are. All we want is some information. If you agree, I will have my friend remove your gag and we can get this over with." The scared man nodded. "Your name is Opal Nod, you're forty-seven years old, you have a wife Mary, two daughters Sarah and Jan, and you run a funeral home out of this house. Is that all true?"

The man behind Opal removed the gag, and for a second it looked like he might scream. Then he uttered, "Yes. Who are you people? What do you want?"

Marcus stood up slowly. "We have covered that already. Here, I will pour you a glass of wine, and then we will get started."

He grabbed a wine bottle and a glass from the cabinets and poured a large glass of the drink. He and his whole crew watched Opal down the wine with one large single swig. "Do you know Jac Samuel?"

Opal looked very confused. Marcus could see that he expected another question and would give a year's salary to know what that question was. "Yes. . . . Last year he was one of the tributes. We buried him."

Marcus started a slow pace in front of Opal. "Good. Now I want you to explain what you did for him after he returned."

"Well, we prepared the body, then—" Nod continued.

"Excuse me," Marcus interrupted. "Talk about the body first: In what condition was the body—how was it delivered?"

With some more confusion, Nod said, "Like every year, he came back in a wooden crate. We removed the body—"

Again Marcus interrupted, "Excuse me, did you or the Capitol embalm him?"

Nod was visibility upset. "He came embalmed. Then we cleaned the body, dressed it, applied makeup, and just made him presentable."

"Good. Then what?"

"We placed him in a coffin and did the viewing."

"Good."

"After the viewing we buried him and put up a gravestone."

Marcus stopped his pace and smiled at Nod. "Great. You are doing great. You're feeling better, aren't you? Now, who paid for all this?"

"For tributes the district always pays for the funeral."

Marcus nodded to one of the soldiers in the dark, who opened a bag and threw out a body. The body looked horrible, but it was the smell that hit everyone first—the smell of rotten meat! Its skin was falling off the body in sheets. It must have been a young, skinny girl with long, dark hair at one time.

The soldier grabbed Opal's mouth so he couldn't scream. The half decomposed head of the girl landed in his lap, and then slid down to lay against his legs. The smell was overwhelming, and everyone but Opal and Marcus already had nose plugs. Marcus planned this to keep Opal from being able to think enough to lie, but right now found it hard keep his stomach down.

"Okay, Opal, do you recognize this girl?!" Marcus yelled.

Opal was trying hard to scream, but the man's grip on his mouth didn't move, so he just shook his head.

Almost disinterestedly, Marcus said, "Please, take a moment and look. I think you know this girl."

Gradually, the man behind Opal loosened his grip, and Opal said, "She's Katniss."

Again Marcus got down to look up at Opal's face. "Why is she not embalmed?"

"I don't know. That's the way the Capitol sent her." Opal was shaking, visibly confused and scared.

"Have they ever sent a body not embalmed before?"

"No. I don't know anything."

Marcus picked up the girl's hand to show her long, manicured nails to Opal. "Who is this girl?"

When he received no reply, Marcus nodded to one of the other soldiers in the dark kitchen. Grunting his disapproval, the soldier picked up the girl and pushed her head right next to Opal's; he opened her mouth to show the gold tooth inside.

"I am going to ask one more time," Marcus said firmly. "_Who is this girl?_"

Opal closed his eyes and yelled, "Please take her away! I didn't do anything—this is the body they sent to me!"

Marcus repeated furiously, "_Is this Katniss?_"

"No, I don't know who she is!"

Marcus signaled the soldier with the body bag, and the body was removed and placed back in its case.

Noticeably relieved at the body's removal, Marcus probed, "So they sent you an unembalmed body of some other girl? So you called them about their mistake—it was just a simple mix-up of bodies, right?"

Opal's head hanged; he knew he had been caught in a lie. "No, I didn't say anything to the Capitol."

"Tell me why."

"When we got the body, there was a letter inside. It said they had saved Katniss and begged whoever got the body to cover for them."

"What else did it say?"

"It had a section for Caroline, Katniss' mom. It said Katniss must never return to the district and she would never see her again, but maybe someday it might be possible to get a message through."

"So that is why Katniss' body didn't have a viewing?"

"Yes."

"Good, you are doing well. Did you show the letter to Caroline?"

"No, I destroyed it right after I read it."

"So you and who else know that Katniss is alive now?"

"No one."

Marcus looked tired as he said, "I will forgive you for that lie. I bet anything that at least your wife knows, but that is not important. You must believe I am not your enemy. I don't want anything bad to happen to you or your family. For that reason I suggest that you not tell anyone else about Katniss or us."

Opal nodded. The soldier behind him stabbed him with a needle, and he fell instantly asleep.

"Okay, people, you did great, but we need to clean up the whole house and get this girl back in the ground before sunrise, so get moving," Marcus instructed as everyone started running around, removing the body and cleaning up everything.

Remu removed his hood and handed Marcus one hundred credits. "Well, you won again. So Katniss is alive—now what?"

Marcus smiled with pride; he had proven himself again. "So now we find her! She must have an InterDoc to endure the poison. Right now, just like Peeta, she is discovering what she can do, and we need to be watching her."

"Why do you suppose they sent back Peeta but not Katniss?"

"I don't know, but the people who have her are obviously not with the government. Maybe they're one of the groups we are already working with, and this will be easy, or maybe not," Marcus said.

"Do you think Peeta knows? Do you think all this grieving about is an _act_?"

That stopped Marcus; he paused to think and then said, "Now that you mention it, I have to admit, I do believe he is in mourning—our agent reports clearly indicates it is so. But that doesn't make sense—they both are Banshees, so they can talk to each other via their psychic powers. It was his talking to her that convinced me that she was alive and we should dig up the grave. But if he is talking to her, how can he be in mourning?"

"You're just mad because he fooled you. For the first time in your life, someone faked you out," Remu said bluntly.

"Maybe. But I doubt it. It's as if she didn't tell him she is alive, like she was fooling him."

Remu got a big joking smile. "Or maybe she doesn't know she is alive."

"You're right, I am overthinking this. Once we find her, it will all be clear."


	19. The Other Ghost

**The Other Ghost**

The hallway of the hospital was busy; everyone was rushing around, except for one young nurse waiting outside a door. The girl was pretty, young, and dark-haired; she had on a nurse's white gown, but her face looked too youthful to even be out of high school. She looked nervous; her fingers fidgeted. She was wondering if she was at the right door, what was going to happen, and what would her new boss think of her. Eventually a tall, blonde nurse with an eyepatch approached her.

"Hello, I am Miss Ramsey, the head nurse of this ward," she said in a friendly voice but without even a hint of a smile.

"I'm Carmella. I was told to report to you for duty," Carmella said with an overly hopeful smile that seemed to annoy Miss Ramsey.

Miss Ramsey sternly said, "Now before we enter, it is a little spooky for new people. This will be your ward, so don't let your imagination get the best of you."

"Oh, you mean the hospital ghost? Don't worry—I don't believe in ghosts."

Miss Ramsey blocked her path with her arm. "Don't make fun of Timmy the Ghost! No, there is no Timmy here. Timmy never comes to this floor, but he is real—I have seen him myself several times."

"I'm sorry." Carmella flinched. "I just thought they were teasing me."

Slowly, Miss Ramsey put down her arm. "Well, don't talk about something you don't know anything about. If you stay in the hospital long enough you will see him—just let him be, and he will let you be. Anyway, back to this room and your job. These people just lie there for the most part, but sometimes they move, make odd noises, and, well, the last two nurses we placed in this ward . . . just got weirded out."

They both finally entered the room. In the dim violet light she could see row after row of people hanging from strings lodged in the ceiling. It was shocking to see so many people nearly naked and hooked to all kinds of hoses, just hanging like the average piece of equipment. The eerie light, the people, the hundreds of indicator lights on the walls and ceiling, the hanging people—it all made Carmella forget what she was doing and just gawk.

Miss Ramsey chose to ignore the young nurse's obvious shock and said, "This is our induced coma ward. The slings constantly move, but very slowly, to avoid fluid buildups or bed sores."

"Wow . . ." Carmella managed. "Where do all these people come from?"

The older nurse pointed at the patients. "Some brain disorders are still untreatable—these poor souls are the failures of the system. Some were on the edge of dying, some were hopelessly insane. They wait here for years for a doctor to come up with a treatment. While they are hooked up to the system their aging slows down to a crawl, and they await a miracle."

Still confused, but trying not to show it, Carmella asked, "So . . . what do I do?"

Miss Ramsey handed the confused girl a large binder, opened to page one. "Here is the check-sheet with your schedule. You will constantly be checking on their monitors and equipment. It really is an easy job—not much happens here. You'll get a lot of reading done."

The two women worked down the checklist, discussing each item, and then started walking the rows, reviewing the chart for each. Ultimately Carmella stopped and stared at one of her patients. "This girl here is listed as Jane Doe. That can't be real . . ."

"Oh, that one! That one was one of Doctor Lukus' patients, now a ward of the hospital. Likely she was a poor person who couldn't afford treatment, and Doctor Lukus was doing it pro-bono. Maybe he didn't even know her real name."

Carmella pointed at the girl's face. "Did you look at her?"

"Yeah, I know—everyone says the same thing. She looks just like poor Katniss Everdeen. If she ever wakes up, I am sure she will hear that for the rest of her life."


	20. Flickering dresses and other Miracles

**Wind makes dresses flicker and other miracles**

It was a bright fall's day with a blue sky and a gentle, cool breeze. The gusts flicked at Tess' short bright yellow sundress in a way that made me want to just stare at it forever and laze in the sun. It was a warm day for that late in the year, very unseasonable. The big puffy clouds billowed by, and again I was drawn to how her dress flickered. Whenever I caught her eye she would give me a quick and happy smile, and then she would duck back behind her canvas. Since she hid her painting from me, I hid mine from her. On her head I could see the big straw hat bob around behind the picture, and I imagined her bright freckled face. She didn't like her freckles; when she wore her makeup she acted so much more confident, but I loved her freckles. Every now and again her bright auburn hair would fly up in the wind like a flame flying in the breeze.

We were outside with our easels painting away the day, occasionally drinking a little wine and eating some of the fried chicken she brought. Katniss wandered about, observing the birds and animals in a way no living person could. She loved how she could get right next to them without scaring them. Sometimes Katniss would come by and share what she found in the field here and there. She was starting to sound like a budding naturalist.

Katniss suggested the subject of my painting: she wanted me to do something nice for Tess for all she had done for us. I thought the idea was odd, but only because Katniss suggested it. Once I got into it I found myself driven by the idea. So the time passed well. I forced all my serious thoughts away and concentrated on my painting and Tess's yellow sundress.

My curiosity about Tess's painting crept up on me slowly. She seemed so proud of herself over there—what could it be? "What is it you have over there?"

With a joking tone she replied, "None of your business! What are you doing over there?"

I reflected her tone, "None of your business!"

We continued on, but every couple of minutes she peeked out from behind her easel, until finally she whined, "Come on, Peeta, show me!"

I gave her a grin and turned my easel to show her my picture. She saw herself in a little black dress looking back at her. In the painting she looked so sexy with her long legs accented by the short dress and high heels. All around her are people dancing, but they were all a blur. She had a little smile, which looked so inviting. Those eyes of her just drew you in, and you knew she was looking at someone she loved.

"Oh, Peeta! I love it! I must have it!" She grabbed me and gave me a big hug and a quick kiss on my cheek.

I could feel a blush fill my cheeks, and I pushed her back. I put on a joking smile. "And you think you can get it with just a hug and a kiss? No, this is going to cost you. How about it cost you your painting?"

With a small chuckle she turned around and ran to her picture. "Ready!"

She turned the picture around, and it was me. It was me at the party. I was there with the rosy cheeks of too much alcohol, but my eyes are fixed on something fascinating. At that moment our pictures were looking at each other with love, just like we did that night. Noticing the proud look in her eyes, I felt an incredible urge to hold her hand.

I gathered what wits I could and said, "I love it—very well done. But you could have picked a more interesting subject."

She shook her head with a big smile. "No, I couldn't have—no way!"

I felt again like I did that night. _Why am I doing this again?_ I was in trouble; she was my weakness. I felt like there was a huge weight on my chest, and I thought to myself, _Peeta, you know how to sink this. Tell her the truth and watch her run away—then you won't ever have to torture yourself anymore._

I stopped smiling and went as stone-faced as I could, and slowly walked over to her. Katniss deliberately turned away to watch nothing in particular.

Tess started to get a nervous look. She knew something big was about to happen. When I grabbed her hand she did a tiny jump. I just held her hand to give her time to let it sink in what was going on. I started to see a light in her eye, and her head tilted with an inaudible question. Her eyes said, _Are we to be a couple?_ I gave her a tiny, almost invisible nod, and her eyes started to get really big and excited; I stopped her by putting my finger on her lips. "Tess, if you are going to be with me, there are some things you should know. You are walking into a crazy mess."

"And with me you are walking into a byzantine political drama. Hell, I have President Snow in my extended family! I can match you for messy life any day of the week."

My mouth went dry. "I am still in love with Katniss, and I don't think that will ever change."

She tightened her grip on my hand. "I know that! I have always known that! We all carry people with us. I still talk to my dad every day, and sometimes I hear his voice come out of other people's mouths. When you really love someone, they never truly leave you."

Katniss was still trying to pretend that she didn't hear us and was just gazing into the distance. I gave her a hand sign to come close. "No, you don't understand. She isn't a memory—she lives with me!"

Tess got an embarrassed look on her face. "Oh, you mean the way you talk to her?"

"You know about that?"

"Peeta, I think everyone does. You have been caught many times talking to her. It's okay, really. Listen, you've been through a lot. No one expects any more from you."

"You still don't understand. Just close your eyes."

She paused, and I saw a hint of anxiety in her eyes, then slowly she closed them. I hated doing this to her, but it was for the best.

I reached over and grabbed Katniss' hand, putting it into Tess' hand. At first she smiled as if I told her a joke, and then slowly her face grew serious. "That's a girl's hand I feel!"

An ill feeling overtook me. I think that was one of the meanest things I had ever done to anyone. "Yes, that is Katniss." She shook with a delicate quiver, and she paled.

"Can I see her?" she managed.

I couldn't believe my ears—she should have been running. "Aren't you scared?"

Her whole body trembled as she said, "I'm terrified! Peeta, I'm a Stone—we don't run from our fears. Can I see her?"

I pushed hard and said, "Open your eyes."

The two girls gaped at each other. Tess' eyes searched Katniss' whole face, and then she reached up and pets her cheek. Both girls had tears running down their faces. Katniss ran her hand over Tess' shoulder. For what seemed to me to be forever, they admired each other.

"Hello, Katniss."

"Hello, Tess."

I tried to get their attention back. I needed explanations. "How is this possible? Why aren't you running away?"

Without taking her eyes or hand off Katniss, Tess said, "It's not as surprising as you think."

"_What_?" I yelled.

Tess continued, "We have never met face to face, but she has been talking to me, preparing me for this for a month. Every day she has come to me, slowly edging away my fear and doubts; she was very patient with me. She and I, we understand each other so well now, and you know I love her too."

". . . _what_?" is all I could manage.

Katniss was still crying as she said, "I have to go now. We will talk later—you two have a lot to talk about." And with that, she turned and started walking away.

I called to her, "I love you!"

She turned around and began to dissolve into the wind. "I love you too!"

I turned to Tess again. "You and her have been plotting behind my back!"

Instead of being mad at my accusation, Tess just wiped her tears and went back to a big happy smile. She looked up at me with anticipation. "I think you were about to ask me a question."

My mind seemed stuck. "What . . . I was . . . I don't know . . ."

Tess grabbed me, wrapped me in her arms with her hand around my neck, and gave me a long kiss; my thoughts all melted away. She pulled back and said, "Yes, most emphatically, _yes_."

"You two set me up, didn't you?"

She pulled my head down to merge her lips with mine, and I felt her melt into my arms again. I pulled her close, fusing her body into mine, exploring that wonderful yellow dress.

She was my weakness, and all I wanted to do was completely give in to her. How long had I needed living arms around me and denied myself of them? How long had I needed someone to both love and understand me, to know my struggles? How long had I wanted to run my hands down that yellow dress, knock off that straw hat, and run my hands through that fiery hair?


	21. Phthalocyanine Blue

**Phthalocyanine Blue**

Venetian red, golden ochre, and phthalocyanine blue—such beautiful oils and many more were on my pallet. I dipped them on my brush, and they almost leapt onto the canvas. My brush flew at a speed that amazed even me. The works I made were so different than what I made before the Games; they were so exceptional, I didn't recognize them as mine. It was as if I was possessed by one of the old masters.

I was supposed to be painting the square in front of the Justice Building, but I had so many already, so instead I painted my new girlfriend Tess from memory. In my painting Tess had the yellow sundress on that I so adored, and her silly large straw hat she seemed to favor; she was just so cute. I loved Tess, but I also loved Katniss; I was a torn man. Katniss loved me, I knew, but she believed it was impossible for us to be together really, so she was okay with me and Tess. Tess accepted the fact that I also loved someone else; she imaged it to be like I was a widower, even though Katniss still lived with me. I knew we are all causing each other pain, but we each thought it worth the agony because of love. When I was with Katniss I loved to just look on her face and feel her love, and then I'd feel guilt for Tess's sake and vice versa. Love, then joy, then guilt happened again and again in endless circles.

I was supposed to be painting the square in front of the Justice Building, because I was there with Katniss on one of her spy missions into the building. We had gathered a lot of information over the months, though we hadn't found a good way of using it yet. Katniss told me all kinds of terrible things that had happened in other districts that she heard in there, and it made us both want to randomly kill Peacekeepers. Though I was just as angry as Katniss, I was always the one to say no. For one thing, I really didn't want to kill anyone. For another, while Peacekeepers are vile, ours seemed to be the most peaceful of all the districts. And lastly, the people of District 12 would be held responsible for our actions. Maybe they would be okay with our deeds; I had heard their anger many times, but I knew it would be dreadful for them. So I waited out there for more bad news, enjoying the memory of beauty, the soft touch of Tess' skin and the gentle touch of guilt again.

When I saw Katniss come out of the building right through a wall, I got a little upset. Every time something passed through her, or she went through a wall instead of a door, I felt a twinge in my belly.

She ran up to me and said, "Snow is coming. He is going to be here in two days to see you, just before you leave on the Victory Tour!"

The Victory Tour—what a misnomer. I'd dreaded it more and more, but now I had to deal with President Snow. I needed to talk to Tess and make some plans. President Snow considered Tess family, and Tess had already warned me that even though she loathed him, she played the loving grandniece when she was around him.

Two days later, when the day came, Katniss and I saw his large black car pull up in front of my house. Katniss ran out to meet the car even before it stopped. I saw her slip right through the car's door. In a minute two huge men with black suits came out of the car and checked around before opening the door for President Snow.

I waited for the first guard to almost get to the door to open it. I said with a smile, "Good morning! Come in, President Snow and company." The surprise on the two guards' faces was priceless; President Snow controlled himself and gave no reaction.

"It is a great honor to have you, President Snow, in my modest home. Let me offer you some food and refreshments," I said as I pointed to the fully stocked table in the living room. The table was covered with breads, cookies, tea, and coffee. That made it obvious that he was expected and put doubt in President Snow's mind about what I knew and what my intentions were.

Katniss came in. "Two agents outside, and then these two in here. He told them he only expects to be here about 30 minutes, and he doesn't expect any problems."

Originally the plan was to have Tess come in and gush over her "favorite" uncle at that point, but I decided later to leave her out of it. If he became suspicious of me, I didn't want the suspicion to spread to her. She agreed because she had to; I wasn't going to let her be part of it. His spies must have had reported on our relationship, but they couldn't know how serious we were.

"You are so gracious. It is almost like we were expected. Where are Mrs. Everdeen and her daughter?" Snow asked as the overpowering smell of roses faintly tinged with blood entered the room with him.

I felt silly saying such an obvious lie: "Oh, I'm afraid they are at school today. They volunteer to help out with some projects at the school. They are going to be so upset about missing you; I don't suppose you carry any pictures of yourself you could sign for them?"

Snow gave me a sly look, which I took as a compliment. It seemed like he was saying, "What a master bull-shitter I'm dealing with. I like you, kid." But what he really said was "No, I'm afraid not, but that is a good idea."

Just then two Peacekeepers came down the stairs and immediately got to attention. Their timing could not have been better. "Hail President Snow," they both said at the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh, I'm sorry, President Snow," I interjected. "I called these Peacekeepers over to search my house this morning. When I woke up I found a broken window in the basement and was afraid that someone might be hiding somewhere in my house." Hopefully their searching my house made it clear to President Snow that despite the fact I knew he was coming, I had no threat for him.

Snow was actively playing his part. "Well, men, did you find anyone?"

Both of the Peacekeepers seemed more scared than I was as the one on the left said, "No, but it does seem someone broke in last night, President Snow."

Snow looked bored as he waved away the Peacekeepers. "You two are dismissed. How about you and I go up to the study and have a serious talk?"

I led President Snow into the study and let him sit behind my desk; I pulled up a chair. "Okay, Peeta, I'm impressed. You figured I was coming, and you handled it very well. On the other hand, sending the girls away was a bit much."

We were playing a part inside a part, but I was game. "I was afraid your presence would make them so nervous it could be called torture. You have to remember: these people are not used to dealing with people of such high station, like you."

"And you are?"

I ejected some honesty into my next statement. "No, as a matter of fact, I'm not, but the net effect of the Games is to remove my fears." _I hadn't thought about this before, but I wasn't ever afraid of President Snow. It's weird—downright irrational—to be this calm around him. I just can't imagine him doing any worse than he already has._

"Strange, most of the victors I have talked to have had the opposite effect. As a matter of fact, my people tell me you have insomnia, panic attacks, and terrible headaches, never mind your delusions," Snow said as he gazed intently at me to see how I reacted to an attack.

Katniss looked pissed in the corner and pushed over some books on the bookshelf, which made him jump, giving Katniss a small smirk.

I stared him down. "My physical problems are rather dramatic, but I wouldn't read too much into them."

Katniss came over next to me and got a wild look in her eyes. "You know, with him and you so close, I think I could just reach into his chest and stop his heart!"

It hadn't even occurred to us that she could kill him. Yes, she was able to move things, larger things every day it seemed, but cause a heart attack? That was a reckless thought! I fingered the "no" signal several times; Snow noticed and grew nervous. I tried to move the conversation along: "So, you came to wish me luck on the Victory Tour?"

"Yes, of course, I wish you a smooth tour, but I need to ask you a few things. First off, what are your intentions with my grandniece Tess Stone?"

At the mention of Tess' name I felt a little fear; she kept herself alive by kissing up to that man. I tried to put some distance between us. "Tess likes me, and we date sometimes. I think she enjoys my company. It's too early in our relationship to know where it will go."

"As you know, she is my favorite of my nieces, and you better treat her well. It would be unwise to break her heart."

"I can promise you that no matter what happens, I will be gentle and kind to Tess. She has been so gentle and kind to me."

He seemed relieved, either because of my assurances or because he had bigger issues. "Good!"

Then he put on his business face. "I don't know how aware you are of the effect of the 74th Games, but from my vantage point, the Games were a disaster. In the Capitol it caused the population to engage in romantic fantasies, and in the districts it promoted revenge fantasies. So now the Capitol people are emotionally attached to you and Katniss, thus threatening the natural political order. In the districts they see you and Katniss as indication they might prevail in conflict with the Capitol. The upshot is both of you are potentially a source of civil disorder."

I acted as if the topic was of no concern to me. "Tough problem, since Katniss is already dead, and my death really wouldn't help—the typical Capitol solution won't work. May I ask what you plan to do?"

Snow gave me a sly smile, letting me know it was going just as he thought. "My advisers say I should cut my losses and just get rid of you."

I could see Katniss' face light with anger, and I knew she would attack soon if I didn't defuse things quickly. "I assume you aren't here just to tell me I'm about to die."

He gave a calculated pause. _What a showman he is_.

"No, I was impressed with your innate knowledge of people and how to manipulate public sentiment. In many ways you remind me of myself at your age. I too went through an idealist stage. One day you'll free yourself of some of these weaknesses and become a great politician. Anyway, I think your ability to connect to the people can be useful for me. After the Victory Tour you'll come work for me as a spokesman."

_I wish this wasn't my life! I wish I had better options! But for me and for the people I love this is what I was fighting for_. "I have gotten use to people treating me as much older than I'm, but I should point out I'm only 16 years old."

"That is part of your strength, people foolishly equate youth with virtue. After the tour you'll spend about half your time in the Capitol helping me explain how wise my policies are to the people. Of course I will give you another even grander Capitol house and salary to ease the transition." Snow says with a smile that indicates he thinks I might actually be interested in money and position. I don't know if I understand him but he certainly does not understand me.

"Just to be clear, this isn't an offer—it's an order?" I said, even though I already knew the answer.

Snow stood up and shook my hand. "Good luck on your tour." Then he left with his two gorillas in tow.

Katniss got right in my face and yelled, "You can't do it! That S.O.B. is responsible for my, Rue's, and who knows how many other people's deaths! Let me kill him! I know I could do it; there will be no wounds, no poison, and his heart will just stop."

I grabbed a piece of paper and started writing. "I can't talk here; they may have added more devices while they searched the house. We can't kill him here—too much danger for Prim and Caroline. If we do that, it will have to be somewhere very public with witnesses, far from here." And then I lit the paper up and burnt it right on the floor.

I walked out the front door of my house and started toward the town. The day was wonderful with big puffy clouds and a deep blue sky. The winters were always a long gray affair in District 12. The day was a gift, a gift to a district of long-suffering people who deserved so much better than what they got.

The anger in Katniss' face was hard to look at. "Peeta, he is pure evil. He'll control you, use Prim and my mom to make you his puppet."

_She just doesn't understand_. "You wanted them to be safe, and they will be as long as I'm useful to him. This is what I've been working toward for months. Yes, he's evil, but I didn't create this world. I'm just trying to keep those I care about safe."

I saw a glimmer of understanding in her eyes, but she would not accept it. "So you're just going to get up in front of everyone and become his mouthpiece!"

_I wish she understood what a sacrifice this is going to be for me!_"That was the plan from the beginning—what did you think I was going to do? Overthrow the whole country?"

"We don't have to cooperate. I can kill him, and none of his guards are going to help one bit!"

I took a deep breath and explained, "When he dies, everyone will celebrate, but he'll be replaced by another dictator. I don't know who will rule over Panem after Snow, but none of this changes the relationship the Capitol has with the districts. The Games will go on, and I'll be used by whoever rules." When I said that, Katniss just stared with anger at me, but didn't say anything. I walked back to my house to prepare for my team to arrive in silence. I couldn't help but think, _Wow, now I'm getting the silent treatment from a dead girlfriend! _which gave me a grim smile.

I walked over to Haymitch's house to wake him. Only a couple of times had I been over to his house; it was always such an unpleasant experience. The house was a smelly mess, and he was always so drunk. Some part of me thought I should take care of him, but my plate was just so full I couldn't take him on. After a lot of effort, I woke him and I went back to my house.

In an hour Effie, Portia, my prep team, reporters, camera crews, Haymitch, Tess, Tom, Prim, my family, and Caroline all showed up with the big circus, which was the Victory Tour start. Portia brought along many new suits, all continuing the basic black theme with hints of flame, wonderful things, actually.

At the train station hundreds of people showed up to send me off. I tried to shake the hands of and thank as many of the people as I could. They were smiling to see me, and from having such wonderful weather in the middle of winter. I asked as many of them as I could what they thought of the weather. They all commented about the wonderful and strange color of the sky, and I told them all it was phthalocyanine blue.

Tess had her train car attached to the train, and we left. I saw Caroline, Prim, my friends, family and all the others wave us good-bye, and we were off. I watched the people slowly disappear in the distance, and it made me sad to think they would have to go to their homes under those dull gray skies. Still, I gave them a day to remember while I could. The whole day, and for the whole district I had made them all think it was a big blue sky, but now it was too far away. I have reached a new zenith in my abilities. I finally had the powers I dreamed of, now I needed to plot Katniss' return from the land of the dead.


	22. The Pawn

**The Pawn**

The train sped on. Gaius entered the bathroom, sat at the toilet, and opened his pack of cigarettes. He unrolled one of the cigarettes to expose a small bendable device. One side of the device was sticky, and he placed it on his nose. He said, "It rained on the day I first kissed a girl." The device answered with a hum. The hum was transmitted to his skull by the device; the skull transmitted the sound to his inner ear, meaning that even if someone was sitting right next to him, they could not hear it.

Gaius had done this many times before and was good at his job—well, both of them. He was able to travel between districts because he represented a large factory in District 8 and was responsible for getting orders for the factory. Each district had different clothing needs, and he had to find something his factory could do for each. For District 12 they mostly produced mining clothes, which were specially designed for the rough ware and extremes of heat. He would brag to the officials about how well the clothes wick the sweat away, allowing workers longer shifts without passing out, and they would complain about how they fell apart too soon. He was good at swaying them, and he liked what he did for the most part.

His other job was his real passion. Gaius was trusted to travel by the Capitol, because his father never married his mother. His father was a great man who had loved Gaius, his two sisters, and his mother, but was dedicated to bringing down the government, and so kept his family secret to protect them. Gaius was there when they whipped his father to death, standing in the crowd, forbidden by both his parents from saying a word to his dying father. He swore that day to commit his whole life to one cause and never looked back.

The device started speaking in an obviously artificial voice. "_Your mission today is to make contact with and recruit an individual. It is considered an A1 priority that this individual be recruited. This is likely the most important mission you have ever been on. We are going to give you a complete history and psychological breakdown on the person. We are also going to give you a list of points we want you to make to him and another list of points we want you to know but are forbidden to say to him. Before we continue, we point out to you that the individual is considered the most powerful psychic alive, so mind your thoughts."_

_Great gods!_ Gaius felt a chill run down his back; something weird was happening. Gaius had heard stories of agents being burnt on purpose just to get some false information to the Capitol and wondered if that was what was happening. Gaius could picture himself writhing in pain, being tortured by the Capitol, and felt a panic sweep through him. _Why would they tell him things not to say, and then ask him to talk to a psychic? Are they testing me? Are they testing the psychic? What games are they playing?_ He calmed himself down by saying to himself what he always said, "_They are going to kill President Snow! I may be a pawn, but the game is KILL SNOW, and that is the game I wanted to be a part of._"

In another train cabin, another pawn was in play. This pawn already knew what he had to do. For him it was always the same—he eliminated problems.


	23. The Jayhawk War

**The Jayhawk War**

Sleep—you never know how much it means to you until it's taken away from you. I remember for most of my life I would lie in my bed, so nice and warm under my blanket, feeling the night wrapping my mind up, letting me forget the day. I used to actually look forward to bed; now sleep just doesn't work for me without the drugs. I had gone to bed and pretended to go to sleep, just because it was part of the ritual Katniss and I have, but I was up again. I just couldn't face using the drugs.

The train was still speeding along toward District 11, my first Victory Tour stop. It was very late and dark; I went to find some ginger ale to help settle my stomach. I wandered the seemingly empty train until I reached the dinner car. It was empty, as you would expect; I found the ginger ale behind the bar, sat at one of the tables, and just stared out at the night. I was alone, and I felt alone. Out the window it looked like the whole world was gone; it was as if we were traveling between stars.

The day had been hard, because people were just so happy to see Tess and me—a little too happy. Most of the people in my team had not seen me in six months; they remembered me as an emotional wreck and thought it was the greatest thing ever that I found someone. Their big smiles and wink-wink-nod-nod attitude were just insufferable.

I almost jumped when I heard, "Excuse me, Mr. Mellark, do you need anything?" I looked up to see a porter. I didn't recognize him, which was strange; I had made a habit of learning my porters. This porter seemed old for the job, late thirties, maybe early forties. He had dark hair and eyes. His build was strong like some kind of athlete.

I lifted my glass. "It's okay. I got my own drink. I don't know you, and I thought I knew all the porters—what is your name?"

He smiled and said, "You can call me Gaius. Too bad it is so dark out there. Here during the day you would see the huge gray stone monuments to the Jayhawks." He pointed out the windows.

"Jayhawks? What are Jayhawks?"

Gaius sat down right across from me, something a porter would never do. "I guess the Great War is not something they teach much anymore; it was so long ago, most have forgotten. Late in that war during the great nuclear winter, this whole area was a snowy wasteland. It never snows this far south anymore, but then they had huge snow drifts, and the winds were terrible. North of here nothing could live for long, so all the people migrated south, including the great tribes of what was then called Kansas. The tribes of Kansas took the name Jayhawks and traveled south, till they got to here. Here on this huge flat plain, one hundred thousand Jayhawks ran into one thousand Suran supermen. The winds here were too strong to have air support, and the snow formed such huge drifts that armor couldn't continue, so when the two armies met they would fight almost all hand to hand.

"The story goes that when the Jayhawk scouts told them about the Surans in their path, all the Jayhawk chiefs swore a blood oath not to leave the battlefield until all the Surans where dead. The battle would last two days, and in the end only about one thousand Jayhawks were still alive, mainly because they got lost in the storm. You see, normal humans like the Jayhawks were no match for the Surans. The Surans had implants in their muscles which made them stronger and brain implants that not only made them smarter than normal humans, but they also had psychic powers. The Surans won the battle but lost half their men, and in two years were wiped out. Ever since then brain implants like they used have been forbidden." Gaius paused to let me imagine that terrible time. _He spoke almost as if he had lived through it. He must be a great lover of history. Who is this man?_

Gaius continued, "The devices themselves were originally designed to help people with terrible brain injuries. It allowed the doctors to have Nano devices repair the damage. So say someone took a poison that attacked brain cells—back then all a doctor had to do was get the toxin out of the person's system—and add the Nano devices. Today doctors just let that kind of patient die."

_It was clear that it was a message to me, but who wanted me to know that?__Is this really what happened to me?_ _Whoever he was, he was not a porter._ "Who are you?" I asked again.

He placed a small square device on the table. "It's okay—no one is recording this conversation, but we don't have much time before someone comes to check the microphones. I was sent here to talk to you. There are people who want to know how you feel about the government."

I chill ran down my leg. _This could be a trap, but I must know the truth!_"You represent the rebellion?"

Gaius leaned back in his seat to relax; he must have wondered if I would call for Peacekeepers. "To say any one person represents the rebellion would be presumptuous, but we do oppose the government. What do you say to that?"

_How does one verify such claims?_ "I would say, 'How can I trust you?'"

"I can tell you a couple of things that I don't think a government agent ever would, and then you'll answer my question. Is it a deal?" Gaius said with anticipation.

"Okay. Do I really have a Suran brain device in my head?"

"Not a Suran device, but a device derived from one, yes," Gaius replied. "One of your doctors was involved in illegal experiments. Someone in the government thought his research might lead to better interrogation techniques, and so he hid his work even from Snow. After you and Katniss took the poison, President Snow threatened to kill all the doctors if they couldn't give him a victor, so they broke the law. After you recovered, whoever was responsible for funding the experiments had all the doctors killed to hide their evolvement."

"Why didn't they save Katniss too?"

Gaius paused and visibly considered his words before continuing: "They did. They saved Katniss' life, but when they told Snow they saved both of your lives, he told them he didn't need both and to kill the girl."

His words hit like bricks! _She survived! He killed her!_I felt rage fill me. I heard the fabric ripping under my hands. I saw the shadows lengthen all over the cabin, as the lights dimmed. The train engine, which was humming, started to whine and then became a distinct scream. _Things_ started coming out of the shadows; things with pincers and many legs scurried around the corners of the lengthening shadows. The overwhelming smell of blood filled the room. Gaius shook with fear and turned pale. I knew everyone for miles was suffering through my nightmares.

Gaius managed, "Believe it or not, that is my answer. Now about my question."

I took a big breath, closed my eyes, and pushed my anger down. _I must control myself! Down, demons all!_ When I opened my eyes again the room was normal, but Gaius was still shaking. "Tell your people I'll side with them. You can also tell them I already have a lot of information I think they'll find useful, but I demand all the information you can get on this device in my head."

Gaius wiped the sweat from his upper lip and said, "No one knows much about them. It was a long time ago, and time and wars have destroyed most of the information about them."

I was still very angry, but I stayed in control. "Do any of the stories speak of contacting the dead, making people see things, or Surans getting sick by using their power?"

"Contacting the dead! No, I've never heard any stories like that. Yes, they could make people see things. I suppose the effort of influencing others must have taken some kind of toll, but none of the stories we have come from their point of view. Have you been able to read minds, move things, or make people see things?"

I said with as much frankness as I could muster, "I can't read yours or anyone else's minds, but I can make people see things when I want. As you just saw."

"Wow, that is amazing! Thanks, I'll go get more orders and get back to you later. I'll give you the contact phrase 'blue green sea' just in case someone else needs to contact you. I'm sure you are a good man, but damn, you are scary. I just hope you stay out of my head." He got up, picked up his device, and just left. I calmly nodded to him as he departed, but my hands tingled from the hard grip they had on the chair.

_I am going to kill President Snow!_


	24. Doctor Lucius Accius

**Doctor Lucius Accius**

The light was fading. The sky was changing from a pale blue to dark blue and soon black. Doctor Accius was in something of a panic. He had been driving around these narrow roads for hours, in and around one canyon after another at the base of the huge mountain. Most of the time all he saw from the road was the mountain pines, but often the road would drop off on one side and he would see how far he could fall. He still felt incompetent with the truck he was driving, especially on these narrow, twisting, icy mountain roads. He was lost—at least he thought he was lost—he wasn't even sure of that. He kept looking over at the piece of paper which had the directions to the house. Each time he glanced at the paper, he was sure he would drive off a cliff.

He thought, _What am I doing? I can't believe I'm doing this. There is only one way for this to end, and that is badly._ In his mind he kept trying and trying to convince himself not to do this, but he felt compelled.

When he saw a sign indicating a house up a road, he was tempted to go up the road and ask for directions, but he didn't. He had worked so hard to avoid having anyone know where he was or what he was doing. The house and the truck were both borrowed from different patients who thought they owed him their lives, and they did. Since they were borrowed his name was on no documents saying where he was or how he was getting there. He had covered all his tracks. He was on sabbatical from the hospital; he had told all his coworkers, friends, and family that he was going to get a hotel room somewhere and would not talk to anyone until he finished the great Panem novel he always wanted to write. But right now he thought it was more likely he would run out of gas before finding the house.

He found a place he could pull over and reviewed the map. As he looked it over, he could hear the equipment in the back do its constant pump, whine, and then _whoosh_. After he stared at the map long enough to admit to himself he didn't understand it, he decided to check on the equipment. In the back of the large covered truck he went through all the gauges until he was convinced all was well so far.

Finally, he checked on his patient. She looked well, but immobile, and he talked to her, "Don't worry—I will find a way to the house, and when we get there I will wake you. You have slept long enough."


	25. Pawn in Motion

**Pawn in Motion**

Effie sighed deeply. "So I said, 'We need some service here!_'_ And all they did was stare at us!" Effie complained loudly, trying to embarrass the waiter.

Breakfast in the train car was always such a noisy affair. Effie seemed to be a morning person and just went on and on. As usual, Haymitch was sleeping off the night before, but Tess and Katniss were with me. Tess sat next to me at the table, and Katniss sat on the back of our bench seat. Tess suffered like me in silence as Effie droned on, but Katniss was rolling her eyes and occasionally yelling at Effie to shut up. I wished I could yell at Katniss, "She can't hear you!"

Underneath the table Tess and I held hands, and it made me feel strong and guilty. I loved Katniss and I loved waking to her, but I needed Tess. Tess was helping me finally recover from all the trauma and putting normal back in my life.

When the waiter finally got me my pancakes, I unexpectedly noticed a man leaving the dining car. For a second as he passed through the door, I was transfixed on him, and for the life of me I couldn't understand why. I quickly had the feeling I missed something important.

He was of an average height and weight with dark hair and eyes, and he wore a rather drab blue suit. He was just an average passenger who we shared the dining car with. The dread I felt seemed baseless. The only strange thing I noticed was that he had an overcoat draped over his arm. Why an overcoat inside a train?

I had a flashback of him entering the car. In my memory, I saw the overcoat draped over his arm again, but this time it had a bulge. He had a bag under the overcoat when he entered, but none when he left! My alarm increased. Then I got an image of him eating breakfast, and it was in the booth right next to me! I could feel that my subconscious mind had already reached a conclusion, and the rest of my mind was slowly catching up.

I shoved Effie right off her seat; she fell on her butt and started yelling something I didn't listen to. I swiftly looked under the man's table, and there was his bag. My heart sank, and I felt a chill. I was afraid that I was overreacting, but I said in the most urgent way possible, "Everyone, get out of here now! Move to the forward car! NOW!" I saw the confused people get out of their chairs and almost against their wills start to leave.

The bag was large, dark, and made with canvas sides, and I questioned how long the timer would be set for, seconds or minutes? I felt my doubts rise again. _How do I know it to be a bomb? No, it is a bomb, and I only have seconds to react._ Its explosion would definitely destroy the dining car, but even all the cars behind would be thrown off the tracks, and those in the cars behind us like Haymitch and Tom would have only a small chance to live. If I moved to the forward car I would have a good chance at survival, but all those behind me would likely die. I reached for the bag, but my hand stopped halfway—it could have had sensors and blown up as soon as I touched it. _Well, I've already died once. How bad can it be?_

I reached for the bag, and then I sensed someone behind me: I turned to see Tess and Katniss. Tess was looking at me like I was crazy and said, "Let's go!" and Katniss motioned for me to leave.

I said, "Tess, LEAVE! NOW! I must deal with this!"

"Peeta, come with me—_now_!" she pleaded.

Katniss looked terrified as she begged, "Peeta, go—it's not worth your life!"

"No, go NOW!" I demanded. "If I don't do this, Tom and Haymitch will die. You must be quick!"

Tess finally started for the door. I waited until she reached it; she looked back for a second. I motioned for her to leave, and I was left alone with Katniss, who was frightened for me and the bomb.

Katniss looked like she might jump me and pull me away as she said, "Peeta, please don't get yourself killed!"

Sweat dripped from my forehead, but I managed a smile and said, "For you, anything."

Slowly I pulled the bag back out from under the table. _Wow! It mustn't have motion sensors!_ In one fluid motion I picked up the bag and moved toward the back door of the dining car. I got to the exit and hit the button, and then I hit it again. "Damn, they disabled the doors!" I went between the cars and looked around for something, anything. I finally saw a panel in the floor. I opened it; it had a switch marked "DISENGAGE". I hit the switch. A huge clunk rang out, and I was almost thrown to the floor as the cars behind me pulled away. _I wished I had known that was an option before!_ The bag flew away as far as I could throw it. The explosion shook the train and made my hands quiver. I caught my breath for a minute, and I could feel Katniss petting my back.

"That was close!" Katniss exclaimed.

I take a big breath and wiped my brow with my shirtsleeve. "Katniss," I panted, "drab blue suit, dark hair, and an overcoat on his arm. Find him!"

She bit her top lip with anger and sprinted off. When she hit the wall, I doubled over with pain, and then again and again as she went through walls. _Damn, that hurts!_

I started jogging after Katniss. In the next car, I was blocked by a wall of people halfway through. Their faces looked frozen in astonished gasps. Tess jumped on me and threw her arms around me. She was crying, but I was pissed; I just didn't have time for it. "Let go, Tess, I need to find the assassin. Everyone, get out of my way!"

Tess refused to let go. "Let someone else do that!"

I pried her arms off me and said, "No, there is no one else to do this! Now let me go!" _I will have to make my apologies later. _I shoved my way through. Between cars Katniss returned to me. "He is two cars ahead of us, moving forward!" I picked up my speed.

I saw him, and he instantly pulled his gun; I barely got behind a seat in time. _Damn! I didn't think he would have a gun! What am I going to do now? _Katniss was behind the seat with me, cowering. I motioned for her to stand up, and she just stared at me, dumbfounded. I waited a while to let her figure it out, and then I said, "He can't hurt you. He can't even see you."

She hunched her shoulders. "Oh, I guess I forgot." She stood up and said, "Here he comes. What do we do now?"

Panic clouded my mind. All I could think was, _I wish I had a gun too_. Instantly a gun appeared in my hand. Well, it might not have been real, but he wouldn't know that. I jumped up and sprayed bullets everywhere, but none hit him, which was good since they wouldn't hurt him anyway. The loud ringing of the gun sounded real enough, but I just shot about thirty bullets from a pistol. _I wonder if he noticed? _He ducked down between seats. _Okay, so now what?_ He fired a couple more bullets and I ducked; then I heard the far door open.

"He's getting away!" Katniss shouted.

Katniss and I ran down the aisle. Halfway to the door, we heard a loud clunk, and the whole train jerked. _He has separated our cars from his. Damn! _I ran through the front door and saw the man pulling away from me in the next car. He pointed his gun at me, and he smiled and shook his head at me, the idiot who just walked into his trap. I motioned to his right with my gun. He faced a very angry Katniss enwrapped in flame; he panicked, emptied his gun into air, and fell backward. He fell to the tracks engulfed in Katniss and flames. I heard two bone-crushing hits on the ground as he tumbled on the tracks before my own train car ran over them.

_Who was he? Who wants me dead? I am already working for President Snow and the rebellion; it can't be either of them. So who else wants me dead? Time to go back and make apologies to Tess and thanks to Katniss. So she got me killed once and saved me four times—how does that balance?_

Using the fact that Tess was President Snow's niece, bribes, and pulling rank (Tom is an army reserve colonel), Tom injected himself into the investigation. The IDs the assassin carried said his name was Samuel Guy and he was a purchasing agent for a company in District 11, all false, of course. The trouble was that the papers he carried were perfect fakes. When they tested his blood, the DNA came back with Samuel Guy. Tom insisted they test his skin too—that DNA came back with nothing.

"He is a chimera, a being with multiple DNA signatures," Tom reported. "It happens naturally sometimes when someone was supposed to be fraternal twins but the cells merge into one being. But that is not what happened here. He was made this way by genetic engineers. I only know one lab in the world capable of that, and it belongs to the Capitol's Secret Service. What's more, the device he planted was designed to look homemade. They meant to lead us to believe that the rebellion did this."

"Why would President Snow want to kill me like this? He just gave me a job."

"I said the Capitol's Secret Service, not the president. Remember, the last two directors of the Secret Service have dirt beds. I think this was designed to keep Snow in the dark. For some reason the Secret Service thinks you are a threat to them. Can you think of any reason?"

The obvious reason was the device in my head, but I said, "No. I can't imagine."

Tom dropped his head in exhaustion at someone he was trying to help lying to him, but he did not call me out; he just walked away.

_Later. . . ._

"Peeta, you don't have to apologize any more. Just hold me," Tess said as we cuddled on her couch. Katniss was leaving us alone. I hadn't said anything, but even Katniss knew I needed to spend some time with Tess. She held her warm, soft body against mine, and it felt so good.

I created the gun in my hand again and showed it to her; her eyes went wide. "Tess, I can take care of myself. You don't need to worry so much about me."

She grabbed my gun, weighing it in her hand, feeling its cold steel. "This isn't over. Whoever sent that agent is not giving up that easily. Damn, this feels so real. You scare me sometimes with this stuff. Please never do it without telling me. Promise?"

I took the gun from her. "I promise. And I am thinking up some more ways to use my power to protect myself. Next time I'm not going to be hiding behind a seat." The gun disappeared, and my hand was wrapped in flame.

_Far away. . . ._

"Please wake up. You have no reason to still be sleeping, you know. All the drugs are gone, the stimulators are off, and everything is ready for your awaking—except for you," Doctor Accius said as he slowly paced in front of his patient. He sat down next to the patient and grabbed her hand, pushing his lips together. "Why don't you want to wake up? Why do you fight me every time I try to wake you? If you don't wake soon I will have to hurt you—please don't make me do that! _Please_."


	26. Goodbye

**Goodbye**

Tess stood just a couple of inches from Peeta in her richly decorated receiving room. Peeta had on one of his impeccable tailored black suits, which seemed to have fiery red embers imbedded deep in its fabric, and he stood at attention. She had on her Capitol makeup again, but her hair was still in one large braid down her chest. Her dress seemed be some form of single emerald crystal, except it flowed like silk, falling in long cascades from her shoulders to her heels. She proudly smiled up into his eyes and with both hands patted Peeta's chest. "Portia did it again. You look so good they might just vote you president today."

Peeta generously smiled down at her, but one tear escaped from his right eye. "Oh, let me get that," Tess said as she got the tear.

Peeta lost his smile as he said, "I don't know if I can do this."

Tess kept her demeanor assuring as she said, "You will do fine. Throughout each district I have seen you carry on—this is just one more day. One day in the Capitol and the tour will be over. Take an hour for the people at the train station, then two hours for the parade, then rest for three hours, then the Victory Tour party, and before midnight we are out of here. By one we will be at my family's getaway in the mountains. You're going to love it there. It's one of the most beautiful spots on earth, and no one will bother us for weeks there."

Peeta fidgeted in his suit, like it was suddenly itchy. "I'm not sure how I made it this far. I thought I would break down crying each time I gave a speech."

Tess wrapped her arms around his waist to comfort him. "No speeches today, I promise you. I'm having Tom and some of his men running interference to keep most of the people away from you. This is going to be a walk in the park in comparison to the districts, I promise you."

Peeta lowered his head and mumbled, "I miss her."

"I miss her too. Now don't you go crying again—you may be able to persuade everyone your eyes look fine, but I will have to have my makeup redone."

"I could fix your eyes too, but you don't like it when I do."

"Well, if you could fool the cameras too it would help."

My mind went back to that night weeks ago. We had just restarted the tour after the bomb almost killed me. I went to bed that night all drugged up and was worried about how I was going to survive the tour. The next thing I knew I was standing in an open field in the middle of a pine forest by a lake. It was a bright day with large, puffy clouds; the air was cool and had a sweet scent. The lake was calm, the pine woods inviting, but I hated the place. I was back in the beautiful hell called the arena. I knew it well, so I didn't need to look at the cornucopia or the tributes' pedestals. It couldn't be real! The arena must have been a thousand miles away. The arena still existed—the Capitol always kept them after the Games and made tourist destinations out of them—but I couldn't be there, and I would never go there again of my own free will. It was hard to imagine, but people would be bringing their children to see it, to see where "it all happened." _Damn them!_ It wasn't a memory; there was no one else there, and the pedestals and grass were undisturbed, like on the first day of the Games.

I took one step and almost doubled over in pain. I looked down to see my poor old mangled right leg. I patted my unfortunate leg like it was a long absent friend. _Yes, this has to be a dream, but it is so detailed, like one of my projections. Could my subconscious mind now be projecting to my conscious mind? Why would I project this?_ I yelled, "Katniss! Katniss!" I waited for a little while, and then I started limping as fast as I could toward where I knew she would be—toward the cave.

Back on the train, I looked down on Tess. She was working so hard to keep me strong and going that I felt a tug of guilt. There I was pining to a girl I love about another girl I love. I am such a selfish fool when I am in pain. "Tess, this had to be hard on you, and you have been so good to me. I don't think I would have made it without you."

Tess buried her head in my chest and her hands played with my lapel. "Sometimes I get really scared. I worry about you, about her, and about us." She looked up so I could see her eyes. "You know I know your heart. I know you love me too. I just hold on to that when things get tough." She gave a sad but big smile. "We Stones are tough people."

In the dream, I quickly kept getting tired from the pain and had to stop often. I would grit my teeth and try to get my breath. It all looked so real, so much like I remembered. I looked around and heard in my memory echoes of Cato, Marvel, Clove, and all the others in the pines. Every day since then my mind had come back to that place, to those people and the things I did. _Will there ever be a day in my life I don't spend some time here? I must push on. I must get to the cave._

I found the stream and then the little pond, and there it was. I hesitated; I felt a dread. Something was wrong. I slowly entered the cave, and it took a while for my eyes to adjust. My nose was instantly filled with the dank, musky smell of the cave. Over by the far wall I saw our old bedroll laid out again, and there she was. Her back was to me, and she was holding her knees and rocking herself. She had on her arena outfit, and it all seemed so real and yet unreal at the same time.

"Katniss!"

Without turning around she said, "Peeta, what took you so long?"

"My leg hurts pretty badly."

"I forgot about your leg. I'm sorry. I'm sorry about so much."

"What's wrong? Why are we here?" I said as I got down and moved around her to see her face. She looked so scared, and she was crying. "Katniss, what's wrong?"

She started to wipe her tears with her hand. "I have to leave you. I'm sorry, but I have to leave."

My hand started to shake as her fear infected me. "Why do you have to leave? I don't understand."

"I don't understand either. I just know I have to go. You know, here was the first place I felt the pang of love for you. I was taking care of you, and all of a sudden I felt something. I wasn't sure what it was then. I was so unfamiliar with the feeling. I always had a hard time with people and emotions. In the last six months I have learned so much. Maybe that's why I was given this time. Maybe I had to learn something before moving on."

I grabbed her and held her as tight as I could. "You're not going anywhere. I am strong now, and I will keep you with me forever."

She ignored my words. "I kept so many secrets from you. I can read your mind, you know, not all the time, but sometimes I actually hear your thoughts and feel your feelings. I have felt your love for me in a way no other lover I think ever has. It was so wonderful. But I also felt your doubt, pain, and guilt, and I am sorry. If I could do anything for you, I would let you read my mind now and let you feel the love I have for you. It would take your breath away, as it does to me. I can't ask you not to miss me, because I know your mind and I know your will, but I want you to know your love of Tess is not an issue, and don't you doubt for one second that you did enough for me."

_What the hell is going on here? I won't go through this again!_"Why are you saying this? You aren't going anywhere! We will have years to explain these things to each other!"

I pulled back to see her face: her eyes had rolled up, leaving two white orbs where her eyes should be. "My god, what's wrong?"

The fear was gone from her voice as she said, staring at the ceiling, "I can't see. It's okay. I mean I can't see you. I see things, but not here."

_I need to figure out what's happening and quick!_ "What do you see?"

"Lights. Bright, bright lights! I am going, Peeta. Kiss me one more time please!"

I pressed my lips to hers. The cave slowly grew brighter and brighter. When I looked up I saw a bright round ring of light burning through the ceiling. The walls started to dissolve, and odd noises began filling the air.

Katniss pulled back, said, "I hear music . . ." and went limp.

The train station was completely packed, and the crowds pushed back into the streets for blocks. The whole Capitol had come to a stop to welcome back the Victor who had become a legend. All my press manipulations, my love story, my brush with assassins had made me into the biggest thing the Capital had ever seen. I was to be given a tribute that had not been seen since the days of ancient Rome. Banners which looked like huge flames were everywhere, licking the sky and proclaiming my return to the Capitol. I was a success in so many ways, and I stood hand-in-hand with a wonderful girl I loved, but I felt like a bag of broken glass.

"You ready for this?" Tess asked.

I pulled Tess against me to feel the comfort of her warm, soft body and gave her a long, tender kiss. "Let's do this."

We pulled back and held hands as we started toward the train's exit. The crowd's roar grew so I could barely hear Tess say, "We will find her, you know. It's just a matter of time."

I squeezed her hand and shouted to be just barely heard by her, "I know, but we aren't the only ones looking."

I remembered how in the last moments of my dream the last of the cave dissolved, when I too could hear the music. When I looked up I saw the strange circle of light above us starting to be eclipsed. The eclipsing body wasn't a moon—it had hair and ears, and it spoke. It said, "Good morning, Katniss." In an instant I knew what was happening. I knew Katniss had gotten it all wrong. She thought she was going to heaven, but they don't play Capitol Top 40 in heaven, and the man waking her wasn't God.

I yelled with all my might at Katniss' lifeless body, "You are not dead! You have never been dead, and you aren't dying! Did you hear me? I will find you again—wait for me!" Then I awoke in my stateroom.

In retrospect, it seems clear that she must have been in a coma the whole time. It explains so much if she had the same implant as me and we had both been working together to give her a life all these months. The Capitol had lied to me, and District 13 had misled me too. I can trust no one.

In her last minutes she gave me a glimpse of the doctor who woke her. Somewhere out there she had awakened, but something about her awakening had broken her connection to me. No matter how long or hard I try, I can't seem to make a connection to her anymore. She is out there, and Tess has her people looking for her, but there are others looking for her too.

I must find her first.


	27. Intro to book 2: Girl from the Ashes

**Girl from the Ashes**

Second book in the "The Star Cross Lovers Die" series.

Introduction:

The Capitol was amazed by the heroic girl from District 12, who volunteered for her sister. They were fevered by her flaming appearance at the Tributes parade. They couldn't believe their ear's to hear how Peeta loved his fellow tribute. When she showed them she could better even the careers at survival, they were dumbfounded. When she showed her kind, brave heart with Rue, they cried. And lastly when she gave her life for Peeta she passed into legend. She would live forever, like Achilles, in their stories. What they didn't know is she lived in fact.

The doctors who saved Peeta also saved Katniss, but where forced to hide Katniss and return Peeta. They hid her where no one would look, a coma ward of a hospital, but they were betrayed and killed. For six months Katniss lived in a world others couldn't see, but was as real to her as our world is to us. Now thanks to a doctor ready to risk it all, she lives in our world again, but the trauma of leaving the other world has left her confused. Katniss must figure out what it is to be Katniss again, what is real. All the while facing the fact she might not even be human.


	28. I am Katniss Everdeen

**I am Katniss Everdeen**

The mountains stretch out for miles, and I sit transfixed by the sight. They are huge, snow-covered, and majestic. I have never seen anything like them, at least as far as I can remember, but I remember so little, and what I do remember doesn't make sense. I've been sitting for hours here on the house's massive deck, watching the sunny mountainsides be overtaken by each other's shadows, and now it is the moon's chance to play with the mountains. It is cold—very cold—but I have my flame pit to keep me warm.

Somehow looking at the mountains makes it easier to think about my "memories." My memories are a jumble of images and words that don't make sense. My strongest "memory," I'm pretty sure, is a dream.

In the memory I was sitting on the roof of a house in a pouring thunderstorm. The lightning blinded me, and then I could feel the thunder shake the whole house underneath me. It was wonderful. The rain came down in huge sheets. I sat on the roof of the house by the chimney and played with the water running down the gutter. The water in the gutter sped down in such fun torrents that I couldn't help but play with it. I wasn't bothered by the cold or the rain, not at all. I was hiding from someone. I was not sure whom, but I knew I just didn't want to talk to them, and they lived in the house underneath me. I reached around and grabbed my tail, put it in front of me, and practiced making it move. I would wag it in one direction and then the other. Something about moving my tail relaxed me. I remember having a tail, a long lion's tail! No, my memories are crazy; how did my memories get so messed up?

The doctor—my doctor—says my memories will return in time, but I have my doubts. My sensible memories only go back a few weeks.

My first sensible memory was waking with a startle in my bedroom. I was in a panic, my chest heaved, and I was in a cold sweat. My eyes darted around, trying to find something, something important, but I couldn't remember what it was. I was in a bed. There were purple walls, a white comforter, paintings of those majestic mountains, a tall vase with pink frilly flowers, white lace-covered windows, a dark wood dresser, and a wood door. I recognized nothing, and nothing echoed the emotions my mind was experiencing. I had no idea what was going on.

Finally I noticed a tall, lanky man with dark hair smiling at me from a chair right next to my bed. I felt an urge to get up and run, but it was impossible since I was so weak. I was about to call out to someone, someone I trusted, but who?

I tried to say, "Who are you? Where am I?" but it mostly came out as a garbled bunch of noises.

The man just nodded as he clamped a device to my temple, another to my finger, and still another to my forehead.

"Just a second," he said. "We will talk soon. Don't worry, nothing bad is happening here. In fact, all indications are that you are going to be healthy soon." He had a computer tablet that he played with.

After a while he stopped and just stared at my eyes. "My name is Doctor Lucius Accius. You have been sick for a while and you are just starting to get better. I am going to give you a sedative, talk to you for just a few moments, and then let you sleep a while. You have been through a lot, and the confusion you must be feeling must be great." He put a shot into my arm and tried to hold my hand, but I pulled it back. "Your name is Katniss Everdeen. Do you remember that?"

For a while I just tried to process his words. My mind felt numb; thoughts just didn't want to congeal. "I . . . don't . . . remember . . . anything . . . I don't remember . . . anything. What happened?" I finally made a sentence!

"It's okay. You have amnesia. It's a side effect of the treatments I gave you. Don't worry, I have seen it many times, and you will regain your memories. You are Katniss Everdeen. You are sixteen years old and you ingested some poison and are lucky to be alive. When you wake up next time you will feel better." He said it all with friendly smile, which I didn't trust, and then he jabbed me with a needle and I nodded off again.

When my eyes opened again, it must have been many hours later. When I woke the first time the sun was streaming like midday, but now the light was pale like the morning. He was right: I was not in a panic anymore. The room was really very nice, but why was I there? Shouldn't I have been in a hospital or something?

Then I noticed a note on my chest. "Good morning. Don't try to get up yet. If you need anything just push the button on the table next to your bed. I put together a small book for you; it is on the table too. I made this book for you from pictures I found on the COMS of you. Don't be too concerned that you don't remember any of it. Give it some time, and know that you do have friends, family, and a past you don't remember. – Doctor Accius"

On the table was a thin book with the handwritten title "Katniss Everdeen". In the book between the cover and the first page was a mirror. I looked at myself and wanted to cry—I didn't recognize that girl! My hand followed every crest of my lips and nose, but nothing seemed right. The next page had a wonderful picture of me in a magnificent dress in what seemed like a stage somewhere. The girl in the picture didn't look much like the one in the mirror, but I guess it could have been me. I started to feel some pride; I must have been an important person to have such wonderful clothes and makeup!

In the next picture I was on another stage, but I was in a simple blue dress and looked so sad—or was it angry? I think it was angry. What was I so angry about? On the next page was a picture of a blonde woman and girl. They had pale skin, nothing like me, but below the picture it said: "Mother - Caroline, Sister - Prim, Father - dead and could not find any picture." I knew so little, and so far none of it added up to me. How could I afford so wonderful a dress in one picture and yet in another look poor? What happened to my father?

On another page was a picture of a rundown bunch of buildings around a square; the picture was entitled "Home - District 12." The buildings did not mean anything to me, but I seemed to be a poor girl from a poor district, except when I'm not.

The next page had a picture of a young blond boy, and for once I felt some recognition. I said, "Peter," and below it read: "Friend – Peeta." I knew Peeta somehow, even if I didn't get his name right! I thought that maybe I would remember those people soon, but as of that moment they were just names and puzzles. I wanted to feel something about those people, but nothing besides a feeling of loss came. The last page had picture of a man titled "Mentor - Haymitch Abernathy." The man looked drunk; his bloodshot eyes seemed to pierce me. Was it a memory I was feeling? The word "kiss" came to mind, but why would I kiss such a man?

From the doorway I heard, "Good morning! How are we doing?" There I saw the only face I truly recognized: Doctor Lucius. He looked young, but I assumed he was in his thirties. I noticed that he had kind brown eyes, but I found myself questioning why I was there, and what he wanted. I seemed to owe him a lot, but where was everyone else?

"I'm okay," I said. "Thanks for the book, but I still have a million questions."

"I have some answers, but let's take this slow. I'm going to put you on a schedule. In the schedule there will be time for meals, therapy, and questions. But for now—breakfast." Then he opened the curtains on the opposite wall, and for the first time I could see the great mountains that surrounded the house. I have to say, the sight was wonderful. The scale of it all took my breath away. The window looked out over a vast pine forest leading to a huge stony mountain. Behind the center mountain was a seemingly infinite line of distant mountains. I would say I had never seen anything like it, but at that moment such a statement would apply to everything. I spent a while just staring as my breakfast got cold.

As the days passed into weeks and I still didn't remember much, my concern grew. I felt that doctor started to be concerned too. He just seemed so apologetic after a while. I did get some more memories—or should I say fragments—but nothing I could hold on to; mostly they seemed to be dreams. I remembered crying at my father's funeral, but then I would remember sitting on my knees before my own gravestone, crying. I would have memories of hunting with a tall, handsome man whose name escaped me, and then I would remember bullets passing through me as I attacked someone on a train.

It just got more and more confusing. At the same time, my body kept getting stronger. I started to spend my days hiking around the mountain. At first the doctor tried to keep me from going too far, but he quickly found I wouldn't listen. Before long I spent whole days on the mountainside; there always seemed so much to explore. Sometimes I would go so far as to see some of our neighbors. A couple of miles away were other homes, and at least one of them seemed occupied. I was tempted to introduce myself to those people to have someone else to talk to, but I didn't.

The day finally came when I couldn't take it anymore. I found the doctor on the huge deck of the house, sitting near the flame pit, warming himself and reading a book. I walked right up to him and said emphatically, "I want to go home now." He put down the book and wrinkled his brow.

"I had thought by now you would have recovered your memories," he admitted. "Something is wrong. Maybe it is the InterDoc."

"The what?"

A look of disgust came over his face; I could tell he was dreading responding. "It is taking longer for you to get your memories than it should. It is probably my fault—I had to use some extreme measures to get you to wake from your coma. I will tell you what happened to you, but it is not a simple story, and it is bound to disturb you, so steel yourself."

He went into the house and got another homemade book, this one entitled "The 74th Hunger Games." We sat at the deck table right next to each other and he said, "A lot of bad things happened to you, but remember that a lot of good things happened too. In the end you survived because of the strength your parents gave to you, the gifts God gave you, and the kindness of several other people, some of whom paid with their lives."

On the first page of the book was me volunteering for my sister. He told me my story, and I was shocked and amazed, but I felt so distant from it. It wasn't really me; it was another me. I didn't feel her passion, bravery, or strength in me. If she had been there, she left no trace in me that I could detect. Looking at the fascination in his eyes as he told the story, I definitely was flattered. He told me everything he knew, but it left me more confused than ever. How could I forget something like that? There I was ready to die for Prim, and when I looked at her picture all I could think was that she didn't look like a sister of mine. Had I always been so brave, or did it come in the moment? Had I always planned to volunteer if Prim was chosen? Did I love Peeta? Did I really not notice him before the reaping? What did I ever do to make a boy so passionate for me? Had we planned together that he should join the Careers? How did I learn to live off the land? How did I get so good with a bow? Had Peeta and I exchanged promises? If it wasn't for the look in the doctor's eyes and the pictures he showed me, I would have never believed I was capable of such things.

After an hour he had told me all he knew up to the point where I seemed to die. "I did know Doctor Lucus. He was a good man and a brilliant doctor. He was the one who saved you. I wasn't supposed to know about his secret work, but in the hospital it was hard to keep such secrets. I knew he was working on a new version of the forbidden InterDoc. He was sure he could use it to save many patients who would have otherwise died without all the bad effects. It is the InterDoc that saved you and Peeta from the poison."

"What is the InterDoc?"

"The InterDoc was something from the old world, before the fall of civilization. It had cell-sized robots to fix brain cells and a device to direct the robots, which were inserted in the patient. Yours is right there." He pointed at the left of my forehead. "The device directed the tiny robots to fix all the cells, which technically were already dead."

"Why was it forbidden?"

"The old InterDocs caused people to change. They become more than human. They became what were called Banshees. They were smarter than normal people and had psychic powers. I'm not big on history, but at some point humans and Banshees actually went to war. It was bad, and, well, since then InterDocs and nanobots have been forbidden."

"So am I going to become a Banshee?"

"Doctor Lucus thought he had fixed that issue, but you and Peeta are the first and likely the last humans to get his device. So maybe, maybe not. After he saved you and hid you in the hospital coma ward, the government killed him and destroyed his equipment. When I couldn't wake you, I became convinced that the InterDoc was keeping you in a coma, so I tried to disable it with a series of electric shocks, which I am afraid is why you have your memory problems, but it did allow me to wake you finally."

"You destroyed the InterDoc?"

"I'm not sure. It seems I changed the way it works, anyway."

"Why didn't I get returned? Why was I in a coma ward for six months?"

"That I don't know. My guess is that the Capitol ordered your death after you defied them, and someone hid you where they knew no one would look instead of killing you."

"So my family and Peeta have been grieving over me for months! I need to talk to them, please."

"Katniss, if the Capitol ever figures out you are alive, they will certainly kill you and me."

I paused in shock before I said, "Is there no safe way to get in contact with them?"

For the first time, he lost control of his emotions and looked like he might cry. "Katniss, my whole life I have played by the rules. Saving you is my first attempt at anything dangerous. When I saw you in the hospital, I knew it was you, and I knew I had to do something. It is a miracle I didn't get caught. I had to fake your death and steal you out of the hospital without anyone knowing, I don't know how I managed to do it without breaking down. There is no way I know . . . ", he starts shaking he head, "maybe someone knows of a way . . . no it is too dangerous. You are going to have to live here and just be happy that you and they survived."

So that was how I learned who I am and why I spend so much time on this deck staring at the mountains. I have so much to figure out. I so just want to go back to District 12 and be surrounded by people who know me, even if I don't know them. I just know if I can get there my memories will return and I can be her . . . I mean _me_ again. Who am I now? Maybe the doctor knows of no way back, but I will find a way. I will find a way back and be her again, though it may take years. Katniss would not give up, and I won't either.


	29. I am Julia Calpurnia

**I am Julia Calpurnia**

I stand naked in my room, looking at myself in the mirror with scissors in my hand. Those blue eyes just keep staring back at me. They are such pale blue eyes; they are really very beautiful, but they don't belong in my head. The pills the doctor gave me have done wonders, but how am I going to find myself when I don't even recognize myself?

My hand runs across my belly and my new pale skin. I am now a full shade lighter than I was just a couple of weeks ago. What most people would notice first about me would be the fact that half the length of my hair was honey blonde and the other half dark brown.

Today I will cut off the dark hair and make my first public appearance as Julia Calpurnia. It is strange to think, but after all these changes I actually look more like a daughter of my mother than I have at any time in my life.

The original Julia Calpurnia died in the hospital months ago. She was young and vaguely looked like me, at least in build. When she overdosed on drugs, she was a sixteen-year-old runaway. No one came to the hospital to check up on her, neither friends nor family, so I guess we did have a lot in common. The doctor never filled a death certificate on her, and he discharged her. Her body was in the same truck as I was when he left the hospital.

I don't know when and where he buried her, but now I am her. She had been a pale, blue-eyed honey blonde, so now I am one too. The doctor had a friend working on cosmetic drugs, drugs that can drastically change a way a person looks by changing the way their genes are expressed. Katniss is officially dead, so I need to be Julia now. I have her looks and documents; hopefully it will be safe for me to be in public now.

The doctor has worked on my imitation of a Capitol girl day and night, and he thinks I will pass. He thinks I can sound just as silly and talk about stupid stuff with the best of them. I've worked hard on this because I am Katniss, and Katniss was a great, strong girl, so I must be one too. We'll see if I can keep this up.

Lying on the bed are several silly Capitol-style dresses my doctor brought for me; I have yet to even try them on. On the chair is what I want: the long, dark pants, dark shirt, wonderful brown leather jacket, mixed gray camo winter coverall, gray winter gloves, backpack, winter sleeping bag, and tall leather boots, my new winter hunting outfit. Just looking at them makes me feel more like Katniss. Against the wall lies my magnificent bow and a quiver of arrows. It was tough agreeing to all these physical changes even though I knew they were required, and this hunting gear is my reward for suffering through the pain.

I pick up the bow. From the moment he gave it to me, I knew I could work it—that part of my past I remember well. The delight of landing arrows one after another has kept me sane through all of this. I would spend hours just landing one after another. I am really good! Today I will go out of the house for the first time as Julia Calpurnia, and I will also go on my first hunt since I awoke.

Up and around the mountain behind our house I go. I want to be far away from the house just to feel my independence again. These woods are nothing like those in my memories, and hunting in winter is hard, but I can't stop smiling.

When I finally think I am far enough away, I start in a slow, large circle, looking for animal signs. It snowed, but not much, which makes it easier to track and deadens my steps, but except for hawks I don't see anything. I ignore the hawks and move on.

A half a mile further west I find rabbit tracks and kill the rabbit as it emerges from its den. Looking at the rabbit's lifeless body makes me sad; I wonder if the old Katniss felt this way about her prey.

I make a camp and set to cleaning and cooking my kill. It is so cold, and I huddle by the fire. This is good. Being out in the woods just seems right to me, but now and again I notice how pale my skin is, and I get a flash of blonde out of the corner of my eye to remind me of the predicament I am in.

I hear some animal making its way around my camp, and then I hear another, and I become concerned. I grab my bow again. Then to my right I hear what seems to be a dog fight, so I spring up and follow the sounds. The moonlight on the snow brightens the night, and I quickly find two dogs in a fierce fight. I sit and watch for a while, totally ignored by the dogs as they bite and claw one another.

Finally I get a view of the prize they are fighting over in one of the dog's mouths, and I instantly land an arrow in its neck, which makes the other run off. There in the dead dog's mouth is a terribly mauled hand, and on one of the fingers is a gold band. I feel my stomach turn, but it is not because of the gruesome hand so much as the thought of dying in a dog attack. What a terrible way to go. I remember something now! What a terrible memory! Poor Cato, even he deserved better.

I don't want to, but I must investigate. I don't have time to bury the hand, so I take the ring and drop it. I head back and strike camp, find my way back to where the dogs were fighting, and find their path in the snow. It is lucky the moon is full and we have fresh snow—it makes tracking easy. The tracks lead me west through dark woods where I think I might lose the tracks, but finally the trees open again and I am in a small clearing surrounding a house.

The house is just a cabin really, and it has one pale light in the window. It has a little porch, one doorway, and one small car parked on the far side. Across the small porch and in long streaks in the snow I can see two long trails. In the moonlight the trails look black, but I know they are red. This isn't the work of dogs! My stomach flips.

I start scanning all around me slowly, trying not to miss anything. I stand for a full ten minutes, not willing to move until I know I am safe. I have been the hunter before, but here I am the hunted. I feel so scared; I think of how I watched the rabbit hole for the stupid bunny and wonder if I am now the stupid bunny walking into a trap. People were killed here—what am I going to do about that? Still, there is a slight chance someone survived, so I can't leave.

Finally I decide to start moving slowly toward the door, constantly scanning around me and listening for the slightest sound. When I get close to where the door should be, I see only a void—it is completely gone. I wait ten minutes, listening to the inside of the house and scanning all around. I look up to see claw marks above the door, making it clear it was a bear attack by a very large bear.

My memory does not include much about bears. I don't think I ran into many bears before, or I forgot it all. I do know that animals avoid people, even dog packs, which fear little but never attack houses; this animal is either very desperate or insane. My arrows are for animals half the size of this one; it is hard to imagine my arrow doing anything more than making it mad. A sane animal can be deterred by the threat of injury—I hope the bear is sane.

The first room is just a mess of things, but it must be the living room. Parts of a couch are here and there, the door is over on the floor, and nothing is where it is supposed to be, except for one large bookshelf on the far wall.

On the wall and floor, I see a dark liquid everywhere and smell the blood. I can see where one body and then another were dragged out of the house. Here and there I can see bloody handprints of one person who must have survived for a while. The handprints lead to the bookshelf, which is terribly mutilated.

I stop and listen again. I hear faint, quick breaths.

I am not alone.

Slowly I move around the bookshelf; it is just a couple of inches from the wall, too small of a space for anything. I move my flashlight up and see the poor, terrified human animal, wedged in a space far too small. The boy's eyes were crazy wide, and he didn't move, like a cornered animal.

All of a sudden I am in a memory and hear: "You here to finish me off, sweetheart?" Again I have a new memory, a bittersweet memory, one that is going to haunt me, I know. I say, "You are going to be safe. I am going to get you out of here."


	30. Where's Mom

**Where's Mom**

The boy is crammed in such a small space that it doesn't seem possible. He is young and blond, but it's his crazy wide eyes that really hit me. He is young, probably anywhere from ten to twelve. I guess it was his parents whose bodies were dragged out. He must have been here when they died. How terrible—it shows in his eyes. He is covered in blood, but I can't tell if it's his. Is he injured? Can he travel? Will I have to carry him?

I try to sound reassuring when I say, "Hello, can you tell me your name?" Not even his eyes move. "It's okay, kid, the bear is gone. Why don't you come out so we can talk?" He doesn't show a sign that he heard me. Shit!

Great! What am I going to do? The bear has been back several times already, and he knows the kid is here, so it's not a stretch to expect him back any minute. My arrows aren't made for killing 600 pound bears! The people likely had phones, but are they lost in all this mess or are they buried wherever the bear decided to hide the bodies? There is a car, but I don't remember ever learning to drive, and where are the keys? The smart thing to do is just get out of here before the bear returns, but the kid may be in bad shape, and I might be stuck here a while helping him and looking for the phones and keys. First things first: block the door to warn me of the bear's return. Second thing: help the kid. After that, I don't know.

I get up and place the door back in its spot and start moving the heaviest things I can find behind it. Well, at least I will get some warning. I open two different windows on two different sides of the house, and then I go back to the boy. There are only two bedrooms, so I immediately find his; I grab a change of clothes, snow pants, a jacket, and shoes. I do all of this as quickly as I can, imagining the bear breaking in at any moment.

During all of this I think about how I'm going to get the kid's cooperation. Should I play nice and offer him hugs? Should I give him orders? What does he need to hear from me? Katniss faced fear many times, so you would think I would know how to deal with fear, but my memories are still a jumble.

"Hey, kid. You watch the Hunger Games, don't you?" No response. "Remember when the Careers cornered Katniss in the tree? Cato, Glimmer, Clove, and Marvel were at the bottom of the tree, and all Katniss had was a knife. I bet you and everyone else thought she was done for. She showed everyone that day, didn't she?" I reach back into my pack and grab my nine inch hunting knife, which looks very much like the one I had in the tree, and reach out to give it to him. For the first time I see his eyes move as he reaches out to grab the knife. He pulls it close and just stares at the long blade.

He finally says, "Tracker Jackers."

I am so happy to hear something from him that I almost laugh. "That's right—she used Tracker Jackers."

"Mom won't let me have a knife," he says.

I definitely don't want to talk about his parents now! "Look, I'm a hunter and an archer just like Katniss," I say as I bring up my bow. "Except I am a much better shot than she was." I shoot three shots to the ceiling in quick series and a nice grouping, I dare say. "Now, I need your help. I don't know what happened."

"Grizzly," he managed.

"What's a grizzly?"

All of a sudden, his expression changes: the fear seems to loosen its grip on him. "A grizzly bear. He has a hump on his back which distinguishes him from normal brown or black bears."

"Great! You know a lot about bears," I encourage. "I hunted a lot but never ran into many bears."

He looks lost in thought as he says, "He should be in his den. Bears spend the winters in their dens."

"So why do you think this one is here?"

"Sometimes they get sick. I think this one is sick. He just broke down our door and he. . . ."

"I've blockaded the front door and opened two side windows," I say before he has time to get afraid again. "I need you to come out. I need to get you ready to leave here. Okay?"

The boy slowly extracts himself from the bookshelf. He is small and skinny, his hair a sandy blond tangled mop, his eyes large and dark. He shivers from both fear and cold, and I have an urge to just hold him in my arms. I control myself and undress him down to his underwear; I start cleaning him and applying bandages from my pack. The cuts and scrapes have already stopped bleeding, and he doesn't look too bad.

"What's your name?"

"Titus."

"Well, Titus, you don't look too bad. Have some water and get dressed quickly."

He takes my canteen and drinks half of it in one sitting. How long has he been trapped here?

As soon as he lowers my canteen he says, "Where is my mom?"

How am I going to keep this kid together? "Titus, I need you to concentrate. I need you to get dressed now. This is like the first day in the games—a lot of bad things happen the first day, but you have to keep your head."

"I know she's dead, but where is she?" he says, resenting my patronizing tone.

I hope he can take the truth. "The bear took her body away to hide it from other animals."

"And Dad too?"

"Yes. Now, Titus, do your parents have any weapons in the house? Do you know where the car keys or the phones are?"

"I don't know."

I want to get him away from this bloody mess, so I say, "Titus, I want you to search the bedrooms, and I am going to search this room. You will be looking for phones or car keys, right?"

"Okay."

The lights are still working, at least in the bedrooms where they didn't get destroyed by the fight. I see him go into his parents' bedroom, and I start searching around the floor. It is such a mess. I find one phone, but it's crushed.

The boy is truly a survivor: he knows what happened to his parents, but still he is controlling his emotions, which makes our chances so much better. I remember my father's funeral, but not how he died and not much about how he lived. I know I loved him, though, and even through the clouds of memory I am getting upset just thinking about him. Poor boy.

Titus runs back, jingling the keys. "I found the car keys!"

"Great! I don't suppose you've ever driven a car?"

"No, haven't you?"

"No, but it might be worth a try. I've seen people do it many times. It doesn't seem too hard."

He runs off to the kitchen, yelling back, "I'm going to make some pepper spray. We have some pepper powder and spray bottles in the kitchen."

"Now you're thinking!" As I say that I glance out one of the windows I opened before and notice that one of the pines has grown a black lump. I hastily grab an arrow and send it flying. When it hits the tree-lump, the lump jumps up and starts jogging away.

As the bear retreats, it seems to be moving too slowly, and when it looks back I am sure. Somehow I know I have not scared off the bear: he is retreating to a better spot to keep an eye on us, not running away. I'm not sure why I think this, just something about the way he moved. He is big, really big, and he's watching the house.

With the full moon and snow it will be almost impossible to sneak away, and given his size staying here is not an option. I need a plan. If I stay I need to figure out some way to keep us safe until someone shows up; the only viable way of leaving is the car, which means going outside in full view of the bear and then figuring out how to drive.

When I go to the kitchen, Titus is already crushing up hot peppers, black pepper, and onions. He had found several spray bottles and a funnel. I start to develop a good theory on why his family lived here in the middle of nowhere in winter. "Titus, I must know if we have to stay here a while. Is there anyone who we can expect to show up tomorrow morning?"

He moves my knife closer to himself, like I might take it back, and doesn't look up from his labors. "No one comes here. We've been here two months and I haven't seen anyone."

"Why did your family come here?"

Titus stops working and looks down at his feet. "I don't know."

I grab his chin and make him look at me. "This is not a good time for secrets. It's important that I know what to expect."

He flinches. "I guess it doesn't matter anymore, not with them gone. . . ."

"What?"

"They were hiding here from the government. Dad did something and got in trouble, and he brought us here to hide for a while. I guess that doesn't matter anymore."

"It's okay. I'm sure he did what he thought he had to. That explains how you know about making pepper spray too."

He goes back to making his pepper spray. I sigh once I realize what our only option is.

"I guess we'll have to make our way to the car."


	31. 9 inch Blade

**9 inch Blade**

My head hurts so badly. I reach up gingerly to the side of my head, half expecting to find a hole. There is a terrible ringing in my ears, so I can barely hear Titus yelling from the backseat floor—the bear is half in the back window, pawing at him. The smell of the pepper spray fills the car.

I hit my head really hard when the car rights itself. The bear had hit the side of the car so hard that for a second I thought he would flip it, but it's on the way back that I hit my head on the glass, breaking it and maybe my head. I need to help Titus, but I can't seem to move.

I had the key in the ignition when the bear hit; all I have to do is turn it and hit the gas, but I don't seem to be able to move right: when I reach for the key, I miss it again and again. I hear a cry of pain from Titus and try again: I reach out for the key, and a man next to me grabs my hand and helps me find the key and then turns it.

I hit the gas and we are moving; the man is helping me steer. The man says, "Slow down. You need to slow down."

We are finally away from the bear, and I can see it running after us in the rearview mirror, but I am all over the little dirt road leading from the cabin. I don't feel right, and with the snow and my speed I almost hit a tree as the cabin and the bear pull out of sight.

I know Titus is in the backseat on the floor. I yell, "You okay?"

"My leg is bleeding!" he shouts back.

"How bad?"

I hear a low, "Not too bad."

"We'll be safe soon . . ." As I say that I start fishtailing; I counterturn the car and start fishtailing in the other direction. I try again to steer out of it, and then we are spinning. The back of the car hits a tree hard.

I think I pass out now. Everything seems to glitter a little; I seem to be walking through a pine forest, and I see a boy run up to me and say, "Run! Run! Katniss, go! Get out of here! What are you doing! Get out of here!"

I awake again to the smell of burning motor oil.

"Titus! Titus! Are you okay?" I yell.

"I think so. What happened?"

"We need to get out of here now." I get up and stare at the seat next to me in the car. Part of me thinks I should see someone there. There was a man there helping me—right there—he helped me turn the key and steer the car, but part of me knows that is impossible. It was just me and Titus; it had always been just me and Titus, but still, I wasn't the one who turned the key!

I drag myself out of the car and around to the back door. Poor Titus! I pick him up from his spot almost under the front seats and cradle him in my arms, but only for a couple of seconds. The wound on his leg will need tending. I tape his leg up the best I can and gather our gear.

I look around us, trying to figure out the lay of the land. Everything slopes down in the direction of the road, but there is a small ridge on the other side of the road; if we go behind it and the bear comes down the road, he won't see us—we will be hidden by the ridge, at least until he gets behind the ridge too. Do bears hunt by sight or smell?

"Titus, you know a lot about bears," I say. "Do they hunt by sight or smell?"

He gets to his feet and says, "They mostly hunt by sight, but they can smell so much better than us. I got this one really good in the nose with pepper spray, though, so he won't smell anything for a while."

I try to reassure him with a smile and say, "You're a smart kid, you know. Where did you learn so much?"

"I guess I read a lot. My mom constantly bugs me to play with the other kids, but I just read my books. Dad taught me a lot too."

"Titus, I don't know if the bear gave up on us or not, but I am not staying here to find out. We are going to sneak away behind the ridge on the other side of the road. I need you to move, to overlook the pain and move quickly and quietly. Okay?"

"Okay."

We start making our way. It is slow with Titus; I know he is in pain, but he doesn't complain. The ridge leads away from the doctor's house, so now we will have to make a large semicircle around the hill the cabin topped. It is still many hours to the house, and we are both tired and weak. I don't like the idea of camping out here, but I don't think the boy can make it. I wish I had some oaks instead of all of these pine trees; I'd love to climb up in a nice, safe tree and get some rest.

Titus keeps getting slower and slower, and just a couple of hours before sunrise, I give up and set up camp. I don't have the strength to set a fire, so Titus and I just cuddle up in my sleeping bag. I mustn't sleep, but he grabs hold of me so tightly that I can't sneak out of the bag. His nightmares make him constantly move and mumble, which helps me stay awake anyway.

Lying next to him brings back so many memories: I am flooded with images of sleeping with Peeta in the cave and other strange memories of sleeping with him in his . . . house? I keep getting these waves of memories, but about half of them are nonsense. I think I remember most of what happened in the arena now. It makes me ashamed of myself to think how badly I thought of Peeta at the start. It is clear now to me: I remember being a ghost and living with Peeta. What am I going to make of that? Though I try to keep it a secret from myself, I know who the man was in the car with us. I don't want to admit it to myself, because it's like admitting you're crazy, but I know who it was.

I let Titus sleep for maybe six hours, scared every minute that the bear would find us. If he finds us out here it is hard to imagine it ending with anything but both of our deaths. Our hope is that he either lost us or at least gave up on us. Again I get an intuition that he didn't give up. I wish I could ignore the thought, but I can't.

"Titus, time to get up—just a couple more hours and we will be safe."

He wakes and immediately, gives me a blank stare, and starts to hyperventilate. His hands have a death grip on me and my knife. He is having a panic attack, poor kid. I pull him up, hug him tight, and start rocking him, saying again and again, "It's all right."

After a while I start singing to him in a very low voice. I sing the "Song of the Meadow". After a ten minutes of this, he starts to finally release his grip on me. He pulls back and looks me in the eye. "Katniss?"

"No, my name is Julia. Julia Calpurnia. If you're feeling better, can we travel now?"

He can't meet my eyes as he says, "Okay. I mean, I'm okay. I'm not scared, really."

"I am," I admit. "But it's okay. It's getting up and doing what needs to be done in the face of fear which makes you brave, not being so unaware you don't see the danger."

We break camp and start the slow hike. Titus can't keep a good pace: his leg is noticeably hurting him, and he is struggling with his emotions. I can feel it, but he doesn't complain. He is such a survivor; why did this have to happen to him?

I stop in my tracks, hit by a powerful memory. I am begging my mom to help us, to save us; I am starving, my sister is starving, and Mom isn't moving. The emotions come back so strong I think I might fall to my knees. It is such a painful memory, but I love it. For the first time I feel, really feel, my love for my sister. Oh, Prim! I love you, my sister! Where are you now? I start to cry for what I lost.

Titus looks scared as he stares up at me and says, "You okay, Julia?"

I try to control myself, and after a moment I manage, "I'm all right. I was lost in a memory."

He looks up at me with those big, sad eyes and grabs my hand. We walk now hand-in-hand, two very broken people. After another hour we finally see my doctor's house in the distance. "There is my house. I live there with a doctor friend. He will fix you all up."

"What will happen then?"

I get down on my knees before Titus and say, "Titus, I don't know. It will get complicated, because other people will get involved, but no matter what happens, you can always call on me. I want to be part of your life from here on out."

My doctor treats our wounds and feeds us, then sends us to bed. Titus would not be separated from me. We sleep the whole afternoon and night together. Holding him, soothing his nightmares, breaks my heart, but it takes the bitterness from my own memories. He has survived at a great cost, as I have.

People like me and him know things that other people will never understand, things we can't explain. I saved him, something I couldn't do for poor Rue, and somehow it made everything better, even my memory of her. I saved Titus! I have a sister I love! Peeta is somewhere out there, and I saved him too, and he saved me somehow today. I can't explain it, but he had been there the whole time, and when I really needed him he turned the car's key for me!

The next day I take Titus to one of the empty cabins near our house and break in. The doctor was right, and as much as I wanted to argue, being involved in Titus' rescue would be too dangerous for us. So we told Titus to tell a story where he saved himself. He took it well, though I can only imagine the feelings of abandonment he must have.

In the empty cabin we find the phone he will use to "rescue" himself, and I look at his sad, big eyes and say, "Titus, I guess I should leave now."

Tears fall down his face, and he holds out my knife. I take it back. "Titus, this is your knife for now and forever, but I will hold it for you." I give him one last hug and walk out the door. I don't look back. It is a long walk back home, and before I am halfway I hear the emergency vehicles klaxons coming for him.

Five days later I sneak into town and climb up the outside of a big three-story house. Through the window I can see Titus sleeping in his nice, warm bed of his temporary foster parents.

He has become famous as the brave boy who survived such a terrible bear attack. The news was filled with his story and pictures of what they found in the woods, though none of them talked about why his parents were there. They had found what was left of his parents and searched for the bear with no luck.

I tap on his window and he wakes; he gives me a big smile and jumps out of bed. I get a flood of emotions and just want to cry, but I smile. He opens the window and hugs me. Before he can say a word I cover his mouth with my hand, and shush him. I motion for him to put out his hands, and I reach into the bag tied to my belt: I pull out the blood-covered nine inch hunting knife and place it in his hands.

He stares at it for a while, and when he meets my eyes I give him a nod and a kiss on his forehead. He gives me a grateful nod and smile, and I climb down.

They will never find that bear.


	32. Giving Chase

**Giving Chase**

Carmella almost runs for the front door of the hospital. She just wants to get out of here as fast as possible. They have just pulled Ms. Ramsey into an empty room for questions, and she knows she will be next. There are two agents right by the door, but they don't stop her. It is so scary having agents all over the hospital—wherever they go, nothing but bad things happen. She needs a drink, a good stiff drink, and she needs it now.

As she steps into the corner bar, she is determined that she isn't going to think any more about those agents in the hospital. After all, she hasn't done anything that she should worry about.

She goes up to the bar. "Hey, Charley, I need a boiler maker here!" She is happy Charley is on duty, since she doesn't have to prove she is of age. She knows she looks like a teenager, but she is tired of people wrongly assuming she is one.

The tall, dark-skinned Charley knows her well and says to her, "Must be a very bad day at the hospital. This place is full of nurses and doctors."

She isn't going to be pulled into this conversation. "Yeh, you can say that! Don't want to talk about it."

He pours the drink and says under his breath, "No one does, apparently. Must be bad."

As she nurses her drink, a tall, noticeably well-dressed man pushes next to her. For a second his huge muscled arms bump her, and he smiles in apology at her. After he turns and starts nursing his drink, she can't help but notice what a handsome man he is, so tall and muscular with dark hair and piercing dark eyes; she begins to plan a way to start a conversation. Just as she is about to ask him, "Do you come here often?" he turns and walks away. Damn! That is when she notices his wallet on the bar.

She holds up his wallet and calls out, "Sir, I think you forgot your wallet!"

He quickly turns around and flashes a smile that makes her melt. "Wow, thanks a lot! I had almost my whole savings in there! I was just about to put down a first month's rent and purchase stuff for my new apartment near the hospital." If she had looked behind her, she would have seen the sneer on Charley's face.

"You work at the hospital?"

He comes back for his wallet, never breaking eye contact or that big smile. "Well, I will next week. I just transferred from President Snow Hospital. They had me in the coma ward for just too long, and I got a chance to work in pediatrics, so I jumped at it."

She starts to feel a little giddy from so much attention from such a handsome man and says, "Isn't that a coincidence? I work at the hospital here in the coma ward. I'm a nurse."

He gets as close as he can without actually touching her and says, "I'm a nurse too. Hi, my name is Rick."

"Hi, I'm Carmella. I can't believe this. What are the chances? You used to work in the coma ward, and I am in one. How many people have even seen a coma ward?"

"Not many. Most people I talk to don't even know what I'm talking about. Can I buy you a drink? It's the least I can do." He flags Charley and puts his money down.

"Sure."

He starts craning his neck and panning the whole bar. He is looking for someone.

"Who you looking for?" Carmella asks.

He again pins his eyes on hers. "My sister is supposed to meet me here, but I don't see her. Have you seen her?"

"I don't know. What does she look like?"

He again flashes that big grin at her and says, "Oh, you'll know her when you see her. She looks just like Katniss—you know, last year's tribute from District 12."

"No, I haven't seen her, but I wish you were here last month."

"Why?"

"Because I could have shown you and your sister our Katniss. You see, we had a patient named Jane Doe, and she looked just like Katniss too."

He says slowly but with great intensity, "Wow, that is weird. What happened to this Jane Doe?"

"They transferred her to War Memorial, but I was told she died in transit."

"In transit? How did that happen?"

"Doctor Accius said it was sudden heart failure."

"Who is Doctor Accius?"

"Just a doctor. How about another drink?"

"Sure, but tell me more about this Doctor Accius."

"Why? I doubt you two will meet, at least anytime soon. He's off on sabbatical, and he won't be back for six months. He's the one who ordered her transfer. Still don't see your sister. You sure she knows where this bar is?"

He places more money on the bar and quickly turns to go. "Here, you have another drink—on me. I'm going to find my sister; we will talk next week. See you then!"

She never notices Rick joining a group right outside the bar or their quick and excited motions once they get his much-awaited news.


	33. Stranger in a Strange Land

**Stranger in a Strange Land**

The hot chocolate steam dances above my cup. God, I love hot chocolate! I have been sitting here drinking one cup after another. I am in a coffee shop, staring out of its huge windows into the middle of the town, squinting as the morning sun shines down.

It all seems so unreal. The mountains look so huge and grand that the human mind wants to reject the idea of anything being that large. They are snow-covered, as is the town this late winter's day. The town itself looks unreal: it consist of many small buildings and shops, all very old-fashioned but so new and clean-looking like they were built just overnight. Brightly clad Capitol residents wander in a steady stream along its streets. The Capitol itself is just over the southern mounts of this small, narrow valley, and this town is basically a getaway for them.

The Capitol people don't look real, either; how can people spend so much time and money on what they look like? How much time do the women—even the men—spend every day on their hair and makeup? My eyes follow their comings and goings; they amaze me. I keep wondering what goes on in their heads.

The coffee shop itself is very nice, all done in natural woods and brass, and the hot chocolate is to die for. The waiter keeps bring me more hot chocolate and scones.

Today I am on my own, out among these alien people. It is so scary and exciting at the same time. I am on my way home, back to District 12, back to my family and friends, though I don't know the way. I have left the doctor and started looking for a way home. The doctor gave me a couple of parting gifts, like driving lessons, a car, and quite a bit of money, but he didn't see how I could possibly make it home. To travel to the districts, you need papers I don't have, and my doctor didn't hold out much hope of me getting the right papers either. It was pointless staying with him any longer, since my goal is home, but I really don't have a plan.

I may think these Capitol people odd, but they seem to accept me. No one has pointed their finger at me and said, "She is not Capitol," yet. I am very cleverly disguised in a short, tight dark purple lace dress with long sleeves. I hate it. I keep pulling down the skirt, feeling like the whole world is looking at my underwear, but at least the sleeves are long. My doctor bought the dress and the high-heeled shoes, and he claimed I looked beautiful; I feel so stupid.

I hate how short the dress is. I hate the color. I hate how the neckline shows off too much. I hate these painful shoes. I hate how cold my legs are. I hate the fact that I can't seem to get my makeup right. I hate fussing with my hair. I am not sure how long I can put up with all of this. It just has to be months, not years, until I am back among my own people again.

I try to concentrate: I make a mental list in my head of things I have to get done. First I need to write to Titus; if I succeed and get back home I will end up leaving him, and I need him to understand I'm not abandoning him. I have enough money for a while, but I need a job and a place to stay to help me blend in. Lastly, I need a plan on how to get home.

On the pad of paper, I had just finished a draft of my letter to Titus. I have to assume that his foster parents are filtering his mail, so I have written an introduction for them.

_**To whom it may concern,**_

_**Hello, I am Julia Calpurnia. I am sure a lot of people are writing to Titus now that he is famous, but if you are his foster parents I am sure he would want to hear from me. You see, Titus and I are not strangers: I like to hike the woods where his cabin was, and we actually met, and I think we hit it off. Please get this letter to him.**_

_**Hello, Titus,**_

_**I hope you remember me—I remember you. You were such a handsome young boy when I met you. I could only hope that any child of mine would be as strong and brave as you.**_

_**I want you to know that I and my friend are doing well.**_

_**I would like you to also know that when I heard how you drove your parents' car away without any training, it inspired me to learn to drive. My friend—you remember my friend, right?—taught me how to drive. I am afraid I dented his car up a bit, but I can drive now! My friend even got me my own car.**_

_**I have also spent many a night recently reading on bears and other animals; you have shown me the great value of book learning.**_

_**I am going to take my car and travel some, I think. I have been away from my family too long, and I really need to see them again. That may mean that I might not be near, and I might be hard to get ahold of, but I know we will find a way. For now, you can send your mail to the post office under my name.**_

_**Tell me everything about yourself. Do you sleep well? I know you aren't good at making friends, but I hope you have found at least good, peaceful places to read. I hope your foster parents understand you.**_

_**Your friend,**_

_**Julia**_

I feel an urge to cry, thinking about how leaving here will mean leaving Titus. Will I ever really see him again? I push away the pad of paper, now wondering if I will even be able to mail this. Maybe I should just sneak a visit again; maybe it would be easier face-to-face. The way the waiter looks at me indicates that I am revealing too much emotion. I look down at my drink and don't look up again for half an hour.

I use my computer tablet to scan the local news for a job, a place to live, or just some ideas. I could be a waitress or shop girl, I guess. What marketable skills do I have? Who needs an archer? The next time I look up, the busy coffee shop is almost empty. The morning rush is gone. The people who work are at their jobs; the other people are about their business.

The waiter has no more patrons and just starts to hover around me. He says, "You seem a little lost; do you need any help?" For the first time I really look at him and see a very tall, skinny young man, maybe twenty-five, with long golden locks flowing down his back.

My natural fear of people kicks in and I say sternly, "No, I'm fine."

His smile drops and he says, "I will get you some more hot chocolate."

I feel bad about my gruff behavior and say, "I'm just looking for a job."

A big, happy grin goes across his face. "It's okay—finding jobs nowadays is really tough. I was unemployed for five months last time I was out of work. If you don't mind me saying, you look awful young to be out on your own."

Julia was a runaway, so I say with a hint of extra meaning in my voice, "Things don't always work out the way they are supposed to."

"I think I understand. What can you do? Maybe I can help."

"I don't know. I guess not much."

He grins and nods. "I'll ask around for you, okay?"

On the screen over the counter, I notice a clip where Peeta's name flashes, and I run over to the counter.

"Well, we have quite a show for you today. I think it's fair to say no one is tuning us out today!" Caesar says, wearing a florescent green and black suit to match his green hair. "We have today a man who stole every girl's heart in Panem, a man whose recent art show pulled in everyone and set unheard-of record prices for art. The Victor from District 12! The boy on fire! Peeta Mellark!"

The music swells, and everyone in the audience is on their feet clapping, yelling, and woofing. I make it up to the counter and stare hard at the screen. I'm not sure what the few other patrons think of me, and I don't care, but they are making too much noise.

"SHUT UP!" I scream. I am sure that as soon as I hear his voice I will get some memories back, and I'm not about to miss my chance. And for the first time I get to see the boy who may be the love of my life, the boy who had definitely saved my life and who I had taken poison for.

The young blond boy in a black outfit walks up to Caesar, waving to the crowd and smiling. I have seen pictures of him from his time in the games, but he looks so handsome now. He has a cane but doesn't limp at all on his fake leg, and he at least appears to be genuinely happy. He gives Caesar a big handshake and then pulls back and gives him a big hug. Caesar plays shocked and grateful; they say some things to each other, but the crowd drowns out their remarks until they sit down.

Caesar has a huge smile on as he says, "Well, Peeta, you look tan and rested. Things have been going your way lately."

Peeta smiles first at Caesar then the crowd as he crosses his legs. "Thanks, Caesar, I feel better."

"Well, how is the family doing? For any of you who have been under a rock for a while, Peeta adopted Katniss's family."

"Thanks, Caesar, they are doing well. Maybe next time I will be able to bring them. I'm sure Prim and Caroline would love that."

"Well, I think my whole audience—heck, the whole Capitol!—would love showing them the town!" he says, egging on the crowd, and they make a thunderous sound in return.

Peeta smiles and nods. "Well, consider it done."

"Peeta, your art pieces have taken Panem by storm. I am told you were offered thirty million credits for just one painting."

Peeta leans into Caesar like they are just two old friends talking. "Well, an offer was made, but we never closed on the deal. Would you like to see the painting I turned down a thirty million credit offer on?"

Caesar feigns surprise. "Oh, yeah, you have it here! Bring it out!"

Two men row out a ten-foot high something covered with a sheet. When it gets to the middle of the stage right behind and above Caesar and Peeta, the sheet flies away as if blown by wind.

Under the sheet is a picture of Katniss—I mean me. I am high up in the mountains on a rocky cress. Below me are puffy clouds and more mountains. Above me is the dark blue of a late day at high altitudes. I am wearing a hunting outfit and carrying a bow. The outfit has leather boots, pants, a light brown leather jacket, and a very unusual cowl. Behind me are several clouds pushed by the wind into forms like wings behind me, suggesting I am some kind of winged creature. Is that really how he sees me? How can anyone be that beautiful, strong, and noble? I wish it were true, but I am just a girl.

Slowly it dawns on me: the cowl I have on in the picture—I recognize it! It is in my luggage back in the car; the doctor gave it to me! And the bow itself looks just like the one the doctor gave to me, but the kicker is that I know the spot in the picture. I have been there! It is high above the house, and the mountains behind me in the picture mean that I even know where Peeta would have been to see me like that. How can this be?

The girl next to me grabs my hand to get my attention, and with a big dumb grin she says, "My cousin actually had lunch with him once."

"What?" I ask, annoyed.

The young oriental girl has two turquoise triangles for eyebrows and a blueish hue to her skin. "My cousin—she met Peeta once. She said he is like a hundred times more handsome in person than onscreen."

"I really just want to watch the interview. . . ." I say before turning back to the program, but then I instantly turn back. "How? How did she meet him?"

"She was one of the trainers. You know, the people who train the tributes. Well, she was the one who trained him with the knife, and Peeta actually came to thank her. Every girl in Panem wants to meet him, and he actually showed up on her doorstep. What a lucky girl!"

Now she has my complete attention. "How did she get that job?"

With a little bit of conspiracy in her voice, she says, "Now you're thinking! But you have to be one of the best at some form of weapon or survival, and that takes years."

"How did she get picked?"

"She worked at the Hungry Mother ranch, been there for years giving the rich and their children the wilderness experience. They have a survival contest from all those survival camps every year, and the best of them get to train the tributes."

"Where is this Hungry Mother ranch?"

"Just ten miles out of town, on Broken Mill road."

"Thanks a lot. I owe you one."


	34. Hot House

**Hot House **

Tess was in a good mood and smiling as she entered her grandma's greenhouse. This was always one of her favorite places on earth. Still she had to wonder why she was asked to come and come alone, without Peeta. Peeta and I came to my family's house often. Peeta got along with my whole family, he had won them over as easily as he does everyone else. He had a way with people I have never seen with anyone before. Sometimes I wonder if he is playing with people's minds, because it is just so easy for him, but he tells me that isn't in his powers. We both are searching for Katniss. I know he loves me but he also loves her, and none of us know how this is going to end. I try to just ignore my fears and do the right thing.

Tess looked around. The greenhouse was huge. I spent many hours of my childhood playing hide and seek in it. My cousins found it a great challenge to ever find me in here. It contains so many overgrown jungles and wonderful plants any child would just love this place. It was a huge Victorian style greenhouse with thousands of panes of glass, brass fittings everywhere, and a wonderful marble floor. Grandma was very studious about the care of this place, but she always made sure it all at least looked over grown and natural. Everything here was so lush and alive, and outside the dreary winter continued.

Snow shared my grandma's love of gardens and greenhouses, but he was obsessed with roses, in particular white roses, where grandma loved her jungles. A single glance at Snow's gardens and you could tell he was obsessed with control and dominance. Looking at grandma's garden might lead you to believe she was about disorder and chaos, but it wasn't so. Many gardeners worked hard every day to give this illusion of chaos, no leaf grew here without oversight.

I was told my grandfather who died before I was even born built this for my grandmother, so she wouldn't feel home sick for the gulf coast town she came from, but the servants told me he built it so large just to dwarf Snow's. I run my hand across the large luscious leaves as I go along. In the center court I found my grandmother where I always found her, by the center fountain. Above her was the huge glass rosette design on the ceiling, which had become the symbol of her sister and Snow's one true love. She was in her wheel chair today so it must be a bad day for her. Next to her is the huge painting of her Peeta did. In the painting she was right there again in the garden. In the painting she wore a dark laced dress standing right here by the fountain. She has worn dark lace dresses from the day my grandfather died. She never stop morning him. She may not feel well, but she always had a warm smile for me.

She grabs my hand, gives a bright smile and says, "Isn't it wonderful?" She points at Peeta's picture of her. From the instant she saw Peeta's painting of her she was in love. She always loved artist, anyone who could make beauty always intrigued her.

I kiss her cheek and say, "I have seen it before grandma. I was there when he made it, but yes it is wonderful." I should feel a little insulted, I had done a similar painting years ago, but his is truly superior. It's impossible to determine how much of his skills were natural and how much is from the InterDoc, but he is definitely the greatest artist of our time.

She stares intensely in my eyes, "It certainly is! That boy of yours is just an artistic wonder! And you two are just wonderful together. When are you two going to get married?"

I sighed and said, "Is that why you called me here, to push me into marriage? It's not like that. I don't think he's ready for marriage. Anyway the topic hasn't even come up." Why does she have to bring this up! Both of us know of how torn he is. I know his heart has two masters.

She turned her head slyly and with conspiracy in her voice says, "I've seen the way you two look at each other, and he is smart, hansom, and really kind, what's holding you two back?"

This is just too painful! I am not doing this! "I'm leaving." I start to turn and pull away, but she doesn't let go of my hand.

She pets my back and says, "Ok, ok, don't leave we have a lot to talk about."

Still angry I say, "What else?"

She instantly went into her business voice and said, "Business ok, we can talk business. I have read your analysis of the president today, present your conclusions."

I am still off guard, but work hard to get into my business mode and say, "I know I am in the minority opinion, but no one is denying my logic, just my conclusions. Snow is going insane. The poisons he exposed himself to while killing the last president and in particular the treatments he has gotten since has made him unstable. I expect him to become more cruel, arbitrary, and ultimately ineffective as this trend continues. This makes civil war more likely, more bloody, and in the end more predetermined against the Capitol."

She challenges with, "Just because he is cruel and vicious doesn't mean he is insane, it is those traits that got him to the position he is in. I remember him as a young man and even then you didn't want to be on his bad side."

I summarize all the stolen reports into, "His people know what we know, for the most part. They know another civil war is months not years away. They put out doctored reports to the president saying it's years away and that the districts don't have a chance, while they all are socking away as much money as they can, to get away when the government falls. Just a couple of years ago Snow would have noticed the bullshit in the reports and done something about it, but he is mentally incapable anymore."

She gave a bright smile, "I am so proud of you! I came to basically the same conclusion last year. I think you are wrong about the drugs though, it is just age. You are just so young you can't understand how tired we elders get, how taxing all of this is. That is why you need to get married and become the next leader of the family. I need to retire soon. "

I am truly shocked for all my life she has been head of the family. She has been a fixed point we all could depend on. "What of mother or Uncle Samson!"

"You are my choice and the vote has already been taken. Girl your mother is a good woman, but she is simply not up to it, and Uncle Samson never settled down. He spends too much time on his '_hobbies'_." On the word hobbies she lets her disgust bleed through.

"I don't want the position."

She smiles and pats my hand, "Don't worry you have a little time. I can hold the position for a while longer. I am just not sure how long. What you need to be thinking about now is that boy."

Back full circle again! Why is she harping on this! "Oh grandma!"

She holds my hand tight and speaks from her heart with, "Listen girl and listen good. I only had your grandfather for four years. Four years! Life is not guaranteed!"

It finally dawns on me what she is really saying, "You believe they are going to kill Peeta!"

She drops her head in a sad repose as she says, "The secret service as already tried to kill him once! I believe District 13 will try to kill him once the wars over. And everyone in Panem will try to kill him if they knew about his condition!"

I blurb before I can control myself, "I will protect him! If you make me leader I will make it the whole family's job to protect him!"

"So now you want to be leader!" She pauses to let that sink in. "Trying to protect people I love is how I got to this position and the only thing that keeps me going. I know, I know. It was the same for me and your grandfather. I really love the boy too, but facts are facts."

The words "facts are facts" is a phrase she taught me from childhood on. She would sit with all us kids telling us stories. Stories of the founding of Panem, of how our family survived, of her sister and the young Coriolanus Snow, but it always ended with the lifeboat story.

In the lifeboat story you are in rough seas in a life boat with too many people and you must decide. Your decisions always cause some death and some life. She would always say "facts are facts" and ask us each what we would do. Her whole adult life she has felt like a captain of a life boat, full with people she loved, trying to save those she could and watching the rest parish. She tried and failed with her beloved husband, my grandfather, and with her own son, my father and so many others. She had always been immune to Snow because of her sister, but the immunity did not extend to her family.

I feel my emotions are just too strong and I must leave now. I call out right before turning to go,"He's not going to be killed!"

As I leave she calls out, "What of Katniss?"

She knows me too well. She always knows my weak spots, the things I am trying to avoid. I stand there waiting for the emotions to pass so my mind can work again.

She calls out again, "Is he waiting for Katniss?"

I turn around to face her, knowing in my heart I am not ready to face this. She has me trapped. "Grandma, it's complicated."

She wheels up to me and grabs my hand again, "You think he is the first boy who loved more than one girl? This is an old story. If we get her back, what is going to happen?"

She isn't going to let this go, I say, "I don't know."

She asks, "What do you want to happen?"

I lash out with, "I don't know. Why is this any of your business?"

"I am leader, and soon YOU will be leader. Soon you will have to protect the family. Our family is huge now. It is not only defined by people with the last name Stone. I have to deal with lovers, friends, allies, beloved servants, and even our workers. If the president figures out Peeta's condition, or Katniss gets caught a lot of people might suffer. A lot."

She wheels herself right in front of me and says, "At first it was just District 13 and then us who knew about Katniss, but then District 13 couldn't find her and they got a dozen different rebel groups to help. Then they started talking to half a dozen criminal organizations. It was only a matter of time until the Capitol secret service got wind of this. Now everyone knows about it and they are all looking for Doctor Accius and Katniss. This is all going to come to a head soon. You need to know what your boy is going to do about that."

I say the truth without even thinking, "He will protect her."

"And when he does, he is going to need our protection right?"

She is right, as usual. Peeta is really smart, he must be aware of the situation. Why hasn't he said anything to me?

"Does he know where Katniss is?"

He hasn't told me anything but I say, "I am not going to betray a confidence."

Grandma says, "If he doesn't, why is he the only one in Panem not looking for her now? No he knows. He is protecting her by staying away from her. I am telling you that isn't going to work for long. Tell your boy that he is going to need our help. Tell him we need him to work with us."

"Peeta isn't going to lead anyone to her. He is so protective of her. I don't think he would trust anyone to approach her except himself and maybe me."

"That is never going to work. Where ever he or you go you are followed. What if we could find someone else he could trust, someone who he knew wouldn't betray her. Do you think you could get him to tell us where she is?"

"I don't think that is possible. Who could that be?"


	35. Old Friends

**Old Friends**

He holds himself against me, and I feel his hand slowly moving up my thigh. His hand is so warm and strong, and yet so much more. My body is changed, different because of his touch. Huge waves of warmth radiate through my body. I bite my lip and found myself panting, unable to breathe.

I am instantly awake. I spring up in my bed, gasping for breath. _My god, what was that?_ I have had sex dreams before, but this was so different, so real. Even now with just a little thought I can smell him in my nose again and taste him on my lips. _Wow, that was intense! _I put my hand on my thigh just to feel what a real hand felt like. _How could a hand do that?_

It finally occurs to me to look over at Anna. Anna's face stares at me from her bed right across the room. We share the same small wood log cabin here at the Hungry Mother Ranch. We just look at each other for a while, and then she gives me a sour look and turns over to face the wall.

It seems Anna has disliked me from the moment she met me. I don't know why. She is in charge of the Juno Games, and I teach archery, so we normally don't deal with each other. I mostly teach children how to safely shoot, and she keeps the people playing Juno safe. Juno is the safe version of the Hunger Games they play here, and it is very popular. Archery had always been popular, but now because of the 74th games it seems every girl in Panem wants to learn, so Caius Roma, the survival camp owner, was glad to hire another archery expert.

I get up and get dressed as quietly as possible. It is only a little past midnight, so I have only slept a couple of hours at best. The insomnia the doctor warned me about just keeps getting worse. I put on my winter gear, including my wonderful neck warmer and new gloves that allow me to handle the bow without freezing my hands. The gloves and neck warmer are made of the same paper-thin material that works like an electric blanket.

The insomnia and nausea I keep getting are side effects of the device in my head. Too bad my doctor said I had become so dependent on the device that he wasn't sure I would survive its removal, but what it's doing to me is something of a mystery to him. I grab a large bag of arrows and my three bows and just leave. No more sleep for me tonight.

It is jet black outside tonight; nothing but faint starlight illuminates my path. The ranch has dozens of rustic log cabin-style buildings and one large community center in the middle. It is in the community center where Caius gives his weekly party. They are loud affairs with lots of dancing and loud voices. He insists that all his workers attend so he can be like Jove, a happy god surrounded by joyous people.

Caius is a remarkable man in many ways, mainly due to his looks. He has huge muscles and a deep tan, both of which conflict with his long gray beard, wrinkles, and bright, kind eyes. He is old—very old—but he seems immune to the ravages of age. He liked me even though I hid in dark corners every time at his parties, not knowing what to make of those loud people.

Another way he is remarkable is that he was born to the comforts of the Capitol but chose to spend his whole life among trees and mountains. His love of nature led him to build this ranch, to share what he found with others. Because of our shared love of nature and hunting, we get along well.

The cold stiffens up my wood bow, so I put an electric blanket on it and get my composite compound bow. I stand sixty yards away from the target and try to clear my mind so I can shoot, but my mind won't clear. The physical echo of the hand on my thigh just won't go away. It must have been just a dream, but I have to admit I really don't believe that. I finally shoot my arrow and am answered with a nice _thud_ from the target. I start working my way through the large bag of arrows.

"Julia, what are you doing out here?" And there is Caius.

I gasp and pull down my neck warmer, which I had pulled up as a mask to warm my face. "Oh! Sorry, I didn't hear you coming! Just couldn't sleep, so . . . well, this is what I do when I can't sleep. What are you doing up?"

He gave a big smile like he was telling a joke. "I was just on my way to bed. I had some business that went late. How do you even see the target?"

_Business? Everyone knows the business keeping him up late. How can such an elderly man keep so many young girlfriends?_ "Oh, I know where the target is. I must have shot it a thousand times already. I don't need my eyes anymore—I can see it with my mind now."

He gives a half-chuckle and says, "If anyone else had said that, I would have cried bullshit, but seeing that it is the wonderful Julia, it might be true. I think you may be the best archer I will ever know. How is that boy—that Titus you're corresponding with—doing?"

I smile, happy to talk about Titus. "Titus. He's doing well. It will take years to actually get over all that he has gone through, but he truly is a strong boy. He tells me he has some new foster parents, and he now has a sister he really likes. He says his new foster father is busy and he doesn't get to see him much, but he likes him a lot."

Caius' face turns suddenly serious. "That's good. Anna tells me you never sleep much at all. She says you are usually getting out of bed as she is getting in. You okay?"

"I'm fine," I assert as convincingly as I can.

"Maybe you should see a doctor."

"I have seen a doctor. Well . . . don't say anything to the others, but I had a head injury last year, and, well, my doctor says this is a side effect. Nothing is actually to be done about it."

"Something about you brings out the paternal instincts in me. Maybe it's your age, your love of hunting and nature, love of children, or your strange melancholy. I sense you feel you are an outsider. Anyway, I worry about you."

"I'll be fine."

"I have some fatherly advice for you anyway. Spend more time and effort getting to know your coworkers, Anna in particular. Some of them worry that you don't like them."

I stare angrily at him until he gets the point that no, I don't like some of them.

"Okay, I get it. You don't give your affections easily to adults. You expect them to earn it. I'm just saying, you need to show the people that you don't like that you are fair and kind. I know you hate the Hunger Games and the Juno Games too. I have seen the way you look when people talk about them, and they've noticed as well. I'm not fond of them either, but we need to show that we aren't petty, just strongly opinionated. You understand?"

"Sure, I guess you're right. It's just hard to imagine how people can enjoy watching some people kill other people."

"That brings me to a small mystery I wanted to talk to you about. You have applied for a Hunger Games trainer slot. Why?"

I look down, unsure of how to answer, "It's complicated."

"Try me." He smiles slightly.

I put as much honesty in my answer as I dare. "I just want to go back to the Capitol city for a while."

"I could get you a day pass, or any Capitol friend or family member could get the papers."

"I need more than a day, and I don't have anyone in the Capitol anymore."

"I don't suppose you want to tell me what happened to your family and why such a young girl is out here on her own?"

"Not really."

"Okay, you may be able to get by without sleep, but I need to go to bed. Good-night." He walks a couple of steps, turns, and says with a wink, "I think you are going to enjoy tomorrow." He quickly disappears into the dark, but I can hear him singing his way to this cabin.

Many hours later, after going through my bag of arrows several times, I go to the community center to sit and drink hot chocolate as I wait for the sun to rise. Why do I think I made love to Peeta? When could that have happened? I need to get to the Capitol and find him, and then maybe he can help me get home. Someday I will sit with Peeta, Prim, and Mom, and then all my memories will straighten out. I imagine myself surrounded by people who know and understand me, and then I look out at the dark forest and feel so far from home.

Some of my kids start showing up early to get in a little practice, and slowly my line starts filling up. I like my kids, well, for the most part. I am amazed by how little they appreciate what they have, but some of them are very sweet. Some of them are cruel, but not many of them. I put down my hot chocolate and go and make sure no one ends up shooting each other.

A chorus of "Good morning, Miss Calpurnia!" rings out from the class. I start going down the row, checking their gear and saying hello.

I hear a shout of "Julia!" and turn to see Titus running up to me. He hits me hard, and I fling him around me and pick him up, giving him a big hug.

We are both laughing as I say, "What are you doing here?"

"I told my foster father I wanted to come, and he just said yes."

I hold him in my arms and say, "You look great!"

I turn to the class. "Elisha, run down the line and make sure everyone is ready as I talk to my friend here." Elisha is the oldest and most responsible of my students, so I sometimes use her as an aid.

I look down at Titus and say, "How long are you going to be here? This is great. Maybe I'll take a couple days off. I would love to show you some of the things I've found."

Behind Titus I see a tall, well-dressed man with dark hair, olive skin, and grey eyes just standing there smiling a kind smile. He is good looking, especially so in his dark suit. He seems to be the very image of handsome.

"You must be the famous Julia that Titus has been going on about. I thought he was going to bust a gut before we even got here. Hello, my name is Gale Hawthorn. Titus' foster father hired me to look after him."

I almost drop Titus. _His name is Gale! The man I remember hunting with is named Gale! I couldn't remember that until now, and here he is standing right in front of me. Will he recognize me? What will happen if he recognizes me? Am I in danger?_

Titus got in my face and said, "My foster father said I was to surprise you. I surprised you, didn't I?"

"Yes, you surprised me!"

"But you haven't heard my big surprise yet! My new foster father is Peeta, Peeta Mellark!"

* * *

_Gale found himself staring at this Julia. She seemed so familiar, but that didn't make sense. Just a couple of days ago he was across a continent from here. None of this made sense. Why was he really here? Why did she seem so familiar?_

_Just a week ago Gale was squinting at a bright morning sun in the forest of District 12. The shadows cut through the empty forest in such a sharp contrast that it hurt the eyes. Just a couple months ago these hills were so green. It was Gale's day off from the bakery, and not only did he enjoy hunting for the fun of it, but because his family loved the fresh meat._

* * *

With the first rays of the sun peeking through the trees, I set my traps up and down the ridge, back-checking them. I work my way up and down the line, but none of my traps caught anything. _What bad luck._ I start again to reset the traps and continue to work my way up and down the line.

When I'm done I find a nice boulder and just sit. This time of year the forest is all grays, browns, and black, colors that match my mood. I miss Katniss, and every time I go back into the woods I get moody. I start to feel a nameless dread. Then one of the tree's shadows on my left moved, and then the shadow lit a cigarette.

Out of the shadows steps a strange Capitol lady in a black suit, tall black boots, black cape, and block corset. She has dark hair and large dark eyes, but she is very pale. She says with a Capitol accent, "Hello, boss."

I pull up my bow, careful not to aim it but sure to have it close if required. "Who are you? What do you want?"

She chuckles a little as she says, "I am Lissandra. It's okay—I have nothing to do with the government." She hands me a large envelop.

"What is this?" I ask.

"That's what I said when the courier gave it to me three days ago. You will find a great deal of money in there, some legal documents, and a paper describing the deal. I already took my share."

I pull out the money and gawk. "Wow . . . !"

"I said that too."

I find the paper and start reading it.

"Holy shit!"

"Well, I didn't say that, but what I said was close. I don't know why, but Peeta Mellark just pulled a lot of strings and spent a lot of money to get you to the Capitol."

"What is this all about?"

"Read the papers. I read them all, but I didn't find any reason why, just a how. About the how, I am told to go into the district tomorrow and post a job offer. Twenty-five people will be allowed to go to the Capitol and make a lot of money working for Peeta Mellark, all perfectly legal. You are to be among the people who answer. There will be real jobs for them, but they are only cover for hiring you. I guess you and Peeta Mellark are close friends?"

"Hardly know the guy. So much money . . . !"

She gets a little serious as she says, "I've done some crazy things over the years, but you should know they only pay that much when they think your family is going to have to go on without you."

"But you came?"

"I have my reasons. Maybe you have yours. Just saying, I wouldn't leave with a bunch of unfinished business."

I pause to let my mind catch up. "Why did you call me 'boss'?"

"Read the documents. They make it clear that you are the boss and you are to give the orders. I am to try and keep you alive, and, well . . . happy. Don't worry too much—I know my stuff. If I can't keep you alive and well, no one can. Are you going to do it?"

"Every bone in my body says not to."

She laughs. "I like you. I think we're going to be a good team. I'll see you tomorrow."

She was right, of course—not only could I not say no to the money, but also I would wonder for the rest of my life what this was about if I didn't go along with it.

I tell my mother Hazelle what I plan to do and show her the money. She begs me to not go, sensing danger in this. I have to admit that she's right, but I am going to go. We split the money into four parts: one I give to her, one I take, and two parts to hide, since we both know how suspicious it will look if we suddenly join the wealthy.

The next day Lissandra appears right in front of the Justice Building and announces that Peeta Mellark has twenty-five positions for people willing to go to the Capitol to work. They all are assured that they will make several times what they make here and be allowed to come home whenever they wanted.

Within an hour she has manged to fill the slots, and all the people have to rush home and pack to leave that very evening.

Lissandra ignores me until we reach the Capitol, when she pulls me aside into a waiting car.

"Well, boss, I have several suggestions I think you should listen to. First, you are legally here, but you stick out too much. I need to get you dressed and acting in a way that you blend in more here. We will go now to my favorite stylist and take care of your look, and right now I'm going to start working on your language and accent."

I can't help but to agree. "Sounds reasonable."

"I also have gotten another message from Peeta. We are to pick up his foster child—"

I interrupt with, "His foster child?"

She shrugs. "Yup. I didn't know he had one either, but he has a boy he is fostering. Anyway, we are to take him to a survival camp."

"That's _all_?" I snap, starting to lose my temper.

"That's all."

I feel my face getting red as I say, "He didn't bring me all the way here to escort a kid to camp."

"Don't worry so much," she says, smiling sadly and shaking her head. "I have known great worriers, wonderful worriers with vast mental abilities to foresee all the possibilities, and they are all dead. Right now you have made a lot of money without doing anything dangerous at all! I don't know Mr. Mellark, but it seems to me he has kept us completely safe while moving us into position, and I appreciate it. Sit back and relax—it's always the same. Before every storm there is a lull which irks the inexperienced and foolish."


	36. A Cutting Edge

**A Cutting Edge**

Titus sits and watches Julia teach her class with Gale. When the class is over, Julia quickly grabs Titus. Ignoring Gale, she leads him off to her cabin.

"This is your cabin?" Titus says as he runs his hands across the log walls.

"Yes, they keep things very rustic here."

"Neat!" he says and sits in my lap. "I've missed you so much. It was really hard not to tell anyone about our secret, but I didn't."

I hug him and say, "I'm glad. I'm sorry my letters were so vague—I had to assume your foster parents were reading them. I've really missed you too."

"I have it, you know." He pulls up his pant leg to show Julia the hunting knife strapped to his leg. "I made the straps myself. What do you think?" He pulls out the knife and admires it.

"You've been carrying that everywhere? No one found it?"

"Nope. Petilia and Arruns, my temporary foster parents, never even saw it. They were okay people; they just didn't know what to do with me. They kept on trying to make me feel better with stuff."

I nod and change the subject. "I guess I should show you the correct way to sharpen your knife."

I get up and pull a sharpening stone, rags, and oil from my desk drawer, and we both sit at the small table. I take out my new knife and move the oil over the fine side of the stone and then start moving my blade back and forth over it. I keep it in a shadow angle with three fingers on its back until I get to the tip, where I roll up the angle.

"See how I am holding my hand. Do it just like that. Unless there is a nick in the knife, you don't need the other side of the stone." He starts moving his blade back and forth on the stone just like I said. "Good, now keep count—you only should have to do that a dozen times."

"Who taught you to sharpen your knife?"

I smile at the discovery of a new memory.

I was very young, sitting at a very simple table, and my dad's large, gentle hands were making sure I had the right angle. My dad smiled such a proud smile at me.

"My dad did. He taught me to be very careful with my gear. Yeah, well, first hold up the knife and look for shiny flat spots you might have missed, and then find a piece of paper and see that it cuts it smoothly, like this." With that I take a paper and cut it quick and clean with my knife.

After Titus cut his paper, he says, "Julia, can you tell me how you killed the bear?"

I did what I had to do, but I am not proud of it, so I answer, "It's not much of a story, really."

"Please!"

"Okay. The day I took you to the cabin, I had Doctor Accius get me a heavier bow with a much stronger pull and some larger arrows with much bigger heads. Then I tracked back out to the cabin, but the bear had moved on. I had expected the bear to come back, but instead he just started east. I tracked him for three days up and down the hills at the base of the mountain. A couple of times I got a glimpse of him, but he always disappeared within five minutes of me seeing him. Most of the time all I had was tracks in snow."

"Weren't you scared?"

I was out of control and I knew it, so it was hard to say. "No, I was mad. I was just so mad at that bear that I didn't care anymore. I hardly slept for the whole three days, and the bear couldn't have either, since he knew I was tracking him. I don't know what drove the bear, but the bear and I knew I wasn't giving up."

"I'm sorry. You didn't have to do that."

"Yes, I did. Anyway, I was at a river on the third day trying to get a drink, and there he was right across the river. We had both somehow chosen the same place and time to get a drink."

Titus' eyes grew wide. "Wow."

"Yeah, wow. He had broken the arrow I had shot him with before, but the head was still in him. For a couple of seconds we both were confused on what we wanted to do, and then he charged me. I took a chance and stood my ground and waited until he was about ten feet away from me. Because I had hurt him earlier and because I didn't run, he stopped and reared up seven feet tall and roared at me. I landed an arrow right in the back of his open mouth, right into his brain. He fell right there."

"Wow!"

"He was still breathing but not moving when I slit his throat with your knife. That night was the first good sleep I had in days."

He hugs me again. "I'm glad you killed the bear, but you could have died."

_Enough of this!_ "Let's not talk of it anymore. Tell me of your new foster parents, of Peeta, Prim, and Caroline."

"They're neat. I mean, I really like them. They seem to just understand me where Petilia and Arruns didn't. I think it's that they are still grieving about Katniss that makes it easier to fit in with them. Does that make sense?"

I feel my heart sink. _I should be there with them!_ "I think it does. They are still very upset?"

"They talk of her sometimes, but even when they don't you can feel a weird vibe from them."

"What did they say of Katniss?"

"Oh, they would tell me all kinds of stories about her. She so loved her family and took care of them, even when she was just a little girl, that they always felt safe with her around. They would go on about how much she hated Prim's cat Buttercup and threaten it all the time, but they knew she would never touch it because Prim loved it so. And then I would tell them about how Dad liked to make pancakes for us . . . and then we would all get teary eyed . . ." Titus' voice slows and fails.

My eyes get watery. I control myself and tell myself he doesn't understand. He couldn't. "But they are well?"

"Yeah, Prim would sneak into my room sometimes at night, and we would just talk."

"What about?"

"Nothing in particular. All kinds of things . . . she told me about her boyfriend."

_My little sister is growing up. I should be there._ "She has a boyfriend?"

"Some boy named . . . Rory. What a strange name. She told me Peeta caught her on a bridge kissing him once." He pauses and then adds, "Caroline is teaching me about her medicines. I am trying to help her by researching the plants she uses and digging up what is known about those plants. Oh, and Peeta has been showing me how to bake and draw. He's amazing to see in action. He is so quick and good—you should see sometime—and he always has homemade cookies for me."

"Sounds like you are learning a lot from them."

"Oh, you should see the house Tess has! It goes on for miles, and it has a greenhouse like nothing you have ever seen. Me and some of the Stone children played all day. It was incredible!"

"Who is Tess?"

"Tess is Peeta's girlfriend. She is very nice."

_What!_ A chill runs through my body. I had gone through so much, and Peeta was going to be there for me at the end. I never doubted it. "I guess she is very pretty?"

"Oh, yes, with long red hair and such a cute little nose. She apparently is part of the Stone family, and you know how rich they are!"

I know I should walk away from this now, but I can't. "They're in love?"

"Oh, yeah, they are always together, holding hands."

I work hard to sound normal as I say, "I thought he loved Katniss?"

"You okay? Something wrong? Yes, he loved Katniss. It's strange: just last night he came to me while I was in bed and just talked of his love for Katniss. I don't know why he never did that before, and I hadn't asked. It was just weird."

"What did he say?"

"The way he said it was weird too, so intense, like it had some hidden meaning I wasn't getting. He even asked me to repeat it back to him. He said he offered up his life for Katniss once and would do it again, but he needed Tess. Without Tess he would have fallen apart long ago. He said that he would see her again. One day he would hold her in his arms again and look into those eyes and explain everything to her." He stopped. "Julia, you okay?

I had lost all control and was crying my eyes out, but I manage to say, "I'm fine. It's just such a romantic story. And I am a girl, and sometimes we just cry at such stories."


	37. The Game

**The Game**

Gale sat on a chair drinking coffee in the community center. The center was a huge varnished wood building with areas for drinking, dining, and dancing. He couldn't imagine what he was supposed to do now.

I heard. "You look lost." and when I turned I came face to face with kind eyes, in an old weathered face, with a long gray beard, on top of a strong, muscled body. "Not sure what I am supposed to do now, Titus is my charge, but I feel I am not needed here. Hi I am Gale."

With a jolly voice the old man said, "Well hi Gale, I am Caius. No I don't think Titus needs you here. He is in the very protective arms of Julia. I am so glad to see those two together. I 've never seen her smile so much."

"How did those two become so close?"

"You're from District 12 right?"

I say, "How did you know?"

"Well everyone here knows the story of Titus, and I recognize the accent. I have travel to all the districts over the years, and the look and accent of those from 12 is very distinct. Anyway Titus is famous here for surviving a bear attack which took his whole family. Julia is one of the few people here which were friends of the reclusive family before the attack. She and him are like family."

"Wow. I didn't know that about Titus, I just met him today. I left District 12 just last week."

"I remember the good people of District 12, and there wonderful forest fondly. If you are going to stay with us for a while maybe I can show you my forest. You're an archer right?"

I say, "How did you know that?"

"The finger calluses are very distinct."

Looking down at my hands I had to admit, "I guess they are. How long have you known Julia?"

He gave a small chuckle and said, "Yeah, I get where you're going, don't even bother every buck, and some of the doe's here has tried to get her interest, and she's just isn't interested. She is far too serious and driven to even notice there attempts."

I feel he doesn't understand me and say, "It's not like that, or maybe it is I don't know. You ever just meet someone and get a very strange vibe."

He winks as he says, "All the time and it causes endless problems with my girlfriend."

"Ok. What are those videos on the walls?"

"Oh, those are maps of the surrounding regions. They show our guests what areas are in use and helps us keep our guest safe. The blue regions are open for hiking, camping, and nature walks. The red areas are open for hunting and the icons show what's legal to hunt. And lastly is our big green Juno games area. Each little stick person is a guest. In the operations cabin I have people watching it all making sure no one accidentally crosses from one region to another."

I say, "You run this place?"

"Yep, founder, general manager, and the best dancer."

"Glad, to meet you. How do you track people?"

"We aren't an arena, everyone who leaves camp must have a tracking bracelet on. As you might imagine hunting, and Juno both are somewhat dangerous and we must keep our guest as safe as possible."

I say, "This Juno game you speak of?"

"I guess being from District 12 you wouldn't know. Anyway, some people call it Hunger Games lite. So people put themselves in the wild and either hunt or hide from each other. Each is given a certain number of points at the beginning which they can exchange for gear and if you are about to attack someone or you detect you are about to be attacked you signal us and we arrange a contest. So say you are sneaking up on someone with a throwing spear. You declare your intent to us through your tracking bracelet. If you are close enough we signal the other person he was just attacked. The person attack can just give up some points, or challenge the person. If challenged they must turn on their bracelet cameras and record a spear throwing challenge against an inanimate target. We have people judge the contest and award points and if the loser is out of points he is out of the game. There are a bunch of other rules for all the weapons, food, equipment and stuff but you get the idea, real living off the land, simulated attacks, and constant monitoring from us to keep people alive."

I say, "And people pay for this?"

He motions around the room, "What do you think payed for this place? It pays the bills and allows my nature lovers and hunters to have a nice place to stay."

I say, "I am not sure I will ever understand the Capitol people."

"I was born here among these people and I don't, so don't worry about it. Why don't we go shoot some and the best shot can buy the first set of drinks."

"Why not?"


	38. Catnip

**Catnip**

_The arrows sounded out_ thud, thud, thud._ As quick as she can, Julia goes through her big bag of arrows. She is tired of pretending to be Julia; she is tired of searching and waiting; she wants to be back with her family, and she wants it now. She knows that behind the targets are the mountains that separate this valley from the Capitol, and if it weren't for Titus she would start right now to climb those mountains, and in three days she would be in the Capitol if she didn't freeze first or die in an avalanche. If it weren't for Titus, she would take that chance. This whole fake life of hers is just so repugnant._

The first warm breeze of spring had come, and the snow was making the whole camp a muddy mess. With the warm air, clouds had come, and not even starlight lit the night.

In the terrible dark I stand on the shooting range, contemplating my life. _What is going on? How did Peeta know I was here? Why didn't he come and talk to me? Why didn't he get me back to my family? Why Tess?_ I am not even sure if I love him, and yet I can't believe he is with another. I really don't know much about him at all, not his favorite color, or meal, not what he laughs at, even what in me attracted him. The stories the doctor told me just made me assume he was mine. Had we not offered up our lives to each other? I remember most of the time in the arena, and I definitely was not starry eyed about him then. Why am I now? Still, he told Titus he loved me, and he saved me and is still looking out for me.

In the dark I sense a motion. I see a shadow eclipse the distant cabin lights, and I hear someone approaching.

I finally say, "Who are you?" Nothing. I say a little louder, "Who are you?"

"A friend, Katniss." My heart skips a beat as I recognize Peeta's voice. "They are looking for you—the government, rebels, and criminals all are hunting for you."

My voice trembles as I say, "Is that you?"

Then Gale steps out of the darkness, and I almost jump with shock.

"Someone else here?" he asks. "It's so dark, and I just heard your voice."

I am still shaking as I say, "You didn't say anything before?"

Gale looks confused. "No, like I said, I heard your voice. I couldn't sleep and was just taking a walk. What the heck are you doing out here?"

Still looking around for Peeta, I mumble, "Practicing."

"In pitch dark?"

"Come—I'll show you." We walk to the target, pull out the arrows, and put them back into my bag.

"That is amazing! You must have the world's best night vision."

I have been avoiding Gale for fear that he might recognize me, but now I need him. I need someone. I carefully do my best Julia voice and say, "Do you mind staying with me for a while? I just don't want to be alone right now." We walk over to the empty community center, and I make drinks for us both. I know it is very dangerous to talk to him, but he can fill in many holes in my memories.

Gale gives a friendly smile as he says, "I really like this! What do you call this?"

My smile reflects his and I say, "Hot chocolate. It's my favorite drink. Caius tells me you're from District 12."

"Yes, it seems to make most people think less of me, so I don't advertise it."

"Well, I don't feel that way. I would like to hear more about District 12." _Please tell me something that will spring some more memories!_

"Not much to say," Gale admits. "It has very nice, hardworking people, coal seams, and green rolling hills. Not much more."

"What are you doing here?"

Gale blows out his cheeks and says, "I haven't the slightest idea. Sorry for staring, but you remind me of someone."

_Oh, no, this isn't going to work. He's going to recognize me at some point. _"An old girlfriend?"

"I knew her since we were children." He pauses and acts like that may be the end, and then adds, "When I was fourteen and she was twelve, both of our fathers died in the same mine explosion. After that, we both went to the woods to find food to keep our families alive. Now, you've got to understand, we weren't just breaking the law. We were doing something almost no one had the nerve to do in the district: go into the woods. She was just so cute . . . and smart and stubborn. She was a hard person to get to know; she just didn't give her trust easily. After a while we became hunting partners, and people just got used to seeing us together, and, well, everyone just started to expect us to get married at some point."

_Wow! _"And what did you think about that?"

"The more I thought about it, the better I liked the idea. She and I, well, we just got each other, and I knew how to make her laugh, and that wasn't common knowledge. I think she liked me, but she wasn't ready for anything yet, so I waited."

"What were you waiting for?"

Gale nurses his drink. "I was waiting for her to figure out she needed someone to hold her, and then maybe . . ."

_He loved me? Two boys loved me, and I didn't even know?_ "What happened?"

Gale lowers his head and sounds so sad that I expect him to cry as he says, "She died. She died before I even got a chance to tell her how I felt."

_I don't think I can lie to him anymore, but what will happen if I tell him the truth?_ "I'm sorry you're still very upset. I shouldn't have asked."

"It's just one of those things you don't get over easily, you know?"

_I can't let this go on anymore!_ "You're talking of Katniss? Right?"

"Was it that obvious?"

_I need to break this to him slowly._ "You know, the nightlock doesn't grow here. It's just too damn cold in winter for it. Have you ever heard of anyone surviving even a drop of nightlock before Peeta?"

Gale starts to look puzzled at my change of subject. "No."

"Did you ever wonder how Peeta survived it? Did you ever wonder how Katniss didn't?"

He looks intently at me. "I think everyone did. It was a big mystery."

"I use to live with a doctor," I say, keeping my voice steady. "He knew those that saved Peeta. He told me the story."

That gets his interest. "What happened?"

I am not sure how much I want him to understand what happened to me, so I just say. "They—the doctors—had made a device that could re-animate dead brain cells, but it was a big secret."

"And they put one of those devices into Peeta?"

"You've got to remember: President Snow never wanted two victors."

His eyes widen as he starts understanding the hint. "What are you saying? He killed her?"

I just stare at him and let it slowly sink in. As he starts to put the pieces together, you can see the emotions flow across his face.

"I went to her funeral," Gale finally says. "She's dead!"

"Did you see the body? No, you didn't."

His jaw drops, not willing to say anything. I drop my Julia accent and say, "Your last words to me were '_Katniss, remember.'_ Is my disguise really that good?"

"My god!" he shouts. "Katniss?"

A big smile runs across his face, and I say, "Not so loud!"

He lowers his voice as a grin goes from ear to ear. "Shit! You're the reason Peeta sent me here!"

"Not so fast. I'm Katniss, but I've lost most of my memories. I need you to fill in the holes."

We talk for hours. It is amazing to hear about myself, my family, and my district from someone who really knows me. The memories start coming back in huge waves. In response, I tell him about my doctor and Titus and the bear. I was afraid to tell him about what the device in my head is doing to me, my visions, and my fears, that I am not really _right_ any more. By the time my kids are lining up again for some early practice before class, he is figuring out that some of this doesn't make sense.

"How does Peeta know where you are?"

My annoyance bleeds through in my tone. "I am not sure."

"Has he contacted you in any way?"

I stall with, "Yes . . . and no."

"What are you saying?"

"Sometimes he gets me short messages, but I've never been able to talk to him."

"Written messages? Who gave them to you? Does he have another agent here?"

I look out the window and say, "I need to go take care of my kids. We'll talk later."

"What are you hiding from me? I know you too well, and you're not that good of a liar."

"Later!" I hiss back.

He shouts, "Julia!" and then whispers, "Katniss. Finding you alive is the best gift life has ever given me. I am so glad I said yes to Peeta and came here."

The smile I give him is heartfelt, but I don't want to continue this conversation.

* * *

_In a muddy field in middle of the forest, the first small flowers of spring are just popping up. Julia stands alone for a while. Soon, Gale joins her, leading a strangely pale woman in a jet black body suit to her._

"Julia, this is Lissandra," Gale introduces. "She works for me, and she knows a lot about how to get people and things around without any official notice."

"Okay, what's this all about?" Lissandra says, slightly irritated.

"Lissandra, I figured out why Peeta hired us and brought us here—_her."_

"Okay, I'm listening."

Gale gets a teasing, almost proud smile and says, "I would like to introduce to you the long dead Katniss Everdeen."

She looks at each of our faces in turn, judging our reactions, and then says, "Okay, I have to say, that is a new one. The dead ones I've known have all stayed dead. Anyway, glad to meet you, Katniss. I'm a fan. I'd thought I was far too jaded to ever get emotional about those games, and you proved me wrong."

"The government ordered her death, and if they find out that she's alive . . ." Gale shakes his head. "Well, they will fix that. Peeta has told her that the government has figured out she is alive and are looking for her. Peeta also says various rebel groups and crime organizations are looking for her. They must be watching every move he makes; that would explain why he never said a single word to us about her."

"First off, let me congratulate you and those that helped you," Julia says to Katniss. "You have all done a wonderful job. Most people don't last a week hiding from this government. Too bad about the crime organizations—they are usually my go-to people. So you want me to find some safe place for her to hide?"

Gale nods. "Yes, we need to find someplace—"

"No," I interrupt. "I want to go back to the district. I want to be with my family again!"

Lissandra tries to say, "The district is possible—"

"You won't be safe there!" Gale cuts in. "You can't just take up your life again and think the government isn't going to just pick you up."

"I need to go home!" I growl, my anger coming out.

"Juila, Katniss, whatever," Lissandra says, "if you go back, you will still have to pretend to be someone else. No matter where we hide you, it's the same. You need to be someone else."

"But I can be near my family there!"

"Katniss, be reasonable!" Gale pleads. "If you won't worry for yourself, how about your family? If the government figures out they were hiding you, who knows what they would do!"

Lissandra raises her voice. "Wait! Wait! We seem to be at cross purposes here. Katniss, I think you are being foolish. You are risking a lot on stuff which won't work out. Gale, you are trying to control her—let her make her own decisions! Katniss, there are only two places you and your family are going to be perfectly safe: out of this country and in the future after Snow. You are very lucky, Katniss. You are young, and President Snow is very old. Despite all his doctors, you could outlive him and his government."

Gale starts to say, "See, Katniss—"

"Boss!" Lissandra snaps. "Katniss, you need to do some heavy thinking, and there are a lot of factors. If you want to return to the district, there is a fairly easy way to do that: marry Gale. In Gale's contract, there are a clause and legal documents that allow him to return to the district at will along with his family. In three days' time, I could have you back in the district as Julia the Capitol girl who married Gale, but you will still be Julia, and the government might still find you."

At the word "marry," Gale and I exchange an awkward glance. I say, "Are there any other options? Couldn't I just show up in public? Technically I haven't done anything wrong!"

"If she announced herself on TV or something like that, it might work," Gale offers. "What could they do?"

"Interesting idea." Lissandra taps her chin. "But I think they would declare her nuts and put her in a hospital for a month and then make her just disappear. On the other hand, if she did it in public in front of Peeta and he recognized her, that might work. It would be hard for them to ignore a public statement by the famous Peeta."

"Yeah, that could work!" I say excitedly. "What could they do?"

Shaking her head, Lissandra says, "Not so quick. Being famous will protect you for a while, but President Snow doesn't give up that easily. A lot of very famous and powerful people have died because of him. A year or so after you make your return, an accident or something will happen."

"But for a while I will be me, and I will have my family, and Snow could die before he got around to killing me."

Lissandra rubs her brow. "It's possible, but a very big bet. Maybe we should have Peeta in on this conversation. It's going to be his head in a noose too. How do you contact him?"

"She won't say," Gale says.

"I don't need to know how, but if I were you, I would be getting a message to him," Lissandra says pointedly.

_Well, let's see if Peeta really is listening._ My eyes scans the woods to see if anyone is near, and then I shout at the top of my voice, "Peeta! Peeta! You hear me? I know you're spying on me! I'm coming! I am going to get right in front of you with the cameras running, and I am going to force you to recognize me!"

Gale and Lissandra look at each other, suddenly aware that they are dealing with a crazy woman.

And then Gale's phone starts buzzing. Gale looks at the message on his phone and his face drops.

"What is it?" Lissandra asks quickly.

"It's a message from Peeta's secretary," Gale murmurs, "informing me that Peeta wants me to attend a company party in the Capitol in two days and that I should bring a date."

As Lissandra and Gale gawk at each other, I shout, "Thanks, Peeta!"

I ignore Gale and Lissandra and start a speedy walk back into camp.


	39. The Other Woman

**The Other Woman**

The drive from the ranch is long, because we have to make our way around the mountains. Titus sleeps most of the way, and Gale and I don't talk much, partially for fear of Titus hearing us and partially because we don't know what to say. Lissandra travels in a separate car, off to pick up her date for the party.

I have spent a small fortune to have my hair, makeup, and dress all done fancy. I even like my dress this time: it is made of long and sweeping fabric that blends from maroon to purple with a sweet heart top and one flowered shoulder strap. I really want to look my best for whatever happens.

Staring out the window, watching the trees fly by and as Gale drives, I ask, "Gale, what do you think is going to happen? Don't worry—Titus is asleep."

"I don't know. Peeta must have a plan. I guess for now we have to just depend on that."

"I'm never going to be Katniss again, am I?"

"I don't know. I guess it doesn't look likely. Can you live with that?"

"What choice do I have, at least for now? Someday this has all got to end."

"You've changed a lot," Gale murmurs. "You're not the girl I knew in the district anymore. It's not just how you look or even your Julia act. I think it's more like growth. You just seem so much more, I don't know . . . adult."

"It's been a tough year," I say.

"It has been for me too," he admits. "You know, if you wanted to marry me in name only, I was willing."

I give him a reassuring smile. "I know. I'm sorry. The idea caught me off guard—I reacted to it with just shock. I'm so glad you're here."

As we drive over the ridge, we finally see our destination. The Capitol itself is always impressive, and, as we cruise down the mountains, we behold the sight.

The hotel the party is to be at is one of the largest in the city. It is an odd shape, like two blades of huge emerald scissors coming out of the ground. We there mid-day, way early for the party, but that is okay with me. The party isn't even to start until 8:00 p.m. and officially not end until 3:00 a.m., so all guests are given rooms.

As I sign in at the front desk, the clerk says, "We will take your bags to your room, but will you come with me, Miss Calpurnia."

"Why?" I ask, suspicious.

The young dark-skinned man gives a friendly smile. "I was told to bring you to see the manager when you arrived. I don't know why."

Gale says with concern, "Is everything okay, Julia?"

I am so nervous; I just want this to be done. "I think so. I think I should see the manager."

"I should come with you." Gale moves to follow me.

"I was told not to allow others to come with her," the clerk interjects. "Please do not worry. I was told this is all friendly."

"It's okay," I assure Gale. "I'll see you later."

We go through a door behind the counter and down one hall after another all filled with offices full of normal office people. Finally, we get to a green door, and the clerk just turns and leaves. I open the door tentatively.

Inside is a quaint tearoom somehow transported from someone's home to the middle of this modern building, two small couches and an upholstered chair around a small dark wood table with cookies and fancy teacups. In the chair is a beautiful red-headed woman in a tightly tailored green dress with dark green-and-gold patterns decorating the bodice. I'm not sure what I expected, but this startles me.

The woman shoots up, and an expected smile runs across her face as she ushers me into the room. "Oh, hello, Katniss! I'm so glad to see you. Do you remember me?"

I feel a rush of anger at the sight of her and say coldly, "I assume you're Tess. Where is Peeta?"

She stares too long and deep into my eyes, like she is trying to grab something out of them, and then says, "Oh, I can see you don't remember. Peeta said you had forgotten most of it, but I had my hopes that you might remember me. Sit down, please. You are among friends here. Let's talk a while. Okay?"

I have an urge to just walk out, but I sit down on the couch. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, and for my part I'm hoping to re-establish our friendship."

"When were we friends?"

She purses her lips. "Do you remember anything from the time of the games until Doctor Actus woke you?"

I slump a little and mutter, "Just some wild dreams."

"Could you tell me some of these dreams?"

_What are we doing here?_ "Why are we talking about dreams? Where is Peeta? I didn't come all the way here to have a tea party."

"In any of those wild dreams, did you have a tail?" She puts her hands out about three feet wide. "Say, about this long?" She pauses. "Was the tail tan with a puff of dark hair at the end?"

"How do you know my dreams?" I narrow my eyes. "Did Peeta tell you?"

"I know your wild dreams because I lived them with you. Look at these letters." Out of her purse she pulls a whole pile of handwritten letters and places them on the tea table. "Each letter is signed by Peeta, but look—they are in your handwriting."

I quickly look at a couple of them. "Well, it might look like my handwriting, but I don't remember writing them. They're fakes!"

"No, they aren't," she insists. "I started getting these letters soon after Peeta returned to District 12. They spoke of how impressed he was with me and how I should come and see him and District 12. We sent dozens of these letters back and forth, but Peeta never knew because you were writing them in secret to me." Both of us sat there waiting, but for what? "Do you remember a big house with a large natural stone fireplace and a wood veranda around the house?" She goes back into her purse and pulls out some pictures of a house and lays those too on the table.

"Of course I know that house—it's in the Victor's Village," I say. "I've seen it a couple of times. What kind of game are you playing?"

She puts her hand on my mine. "Please, Katniss. This means a lot to me. Be patient with me a little longer. Do you remember sleeping with Peeta in this house? This is Peeta's house."

Under her pressure, I confess: "I do remember a dream of a very large bed."

She takes a large, excited breath and continues. "With four wood posts that reached the ceiling. Yes!" And she puts out pictures of a bedroom with a huge bed and the tall post. The bed of my dreams!

"How is this possible?"

"The way Peeta described it to me, he said you were an avatar. When he was in the hospital, his unconscious mind used all his abilities to create a doll-like thing, an avatar of you. To me or anyone else it would just be a dream, but they had modified him into something new. When your mind found the avatar, it just invaded it and took over."

"And this avatar wrote letters to you?" I question.

"At first all it could do was make him hear and feel things, like a regular hallucination. As the Interdoc changed him, he could share the avatar with others. Finally, with the combined power of both of you, he could make the avatar interact with the world like a real person. That is when you wrote the letters."

With a now dry mouth I say, "So those dreams really happened?"

"Well, a lot of things did happen. Some of those things I saw, most Peeta told me."

Once more I feel the hand running up my thigh and a feel a blush run to my face. _Oh, god!_

She notices and tightens her grip on my hand. "Don't worry so much—you are among friends. Let me guess: you just remembered a dream where you and him . . . well, got together."

All I could do was nod my head.

Tess nods, affirming the event. "Yes, that did happen. Peeta told me that day was special. It was the first time he was able to make the avatar so real that no one could tell the difference, not even you, from a real person. And yes, it was a peak experience for him. It truly meant . . . means a lot to him."

I don't know how what to do; I just know I don't want to talk about this. "Uh . . . good."

"Don't be so upset—it's okay," Tess assures me. "We are all adults here."

"This is just too weird. I don't know. I need to think . . ."

"I understand. Peeta and I have had a really difficult time with it, and we had months. But I am so glad to see that you believe me again; with your trust I can help you. How about we change the subject to something a lot happier? I have a VID of your family—do you want to see it?"

I feel so confused that it barely registers with me, but I say, "Yes, please."

A panel drops, and a screen appears on the opposite wall. On the screen are Mom and Prim. Their eyes are all red and their cheeks are wet. They seem to be on some small couch somewhere, waiting on the camera.

Mom starts: "Hello, Katniss. I can't believe it. Peeta told us we will see you in two days, and I just can't stop shaking. Are you well? We've missed you so. We are well and in the Capitol for a visit. I should have known you were still alive. Prim just kept on saying she felt your presence, and I did too. Look at this girl. You sister must have grown an inch since you last saw her. I can't wait to have you in my arms again."

Prim moves up and says, "Hi, sis! It's so great to be able to say that again. I did feel your presence while you were gone. I kept telling mom and Peeta how I felt it. Lady and Buttercup are doing well. They are still back in the district, of course. Peeta told me you have blonde hair, blue eyes, and pale skin now. I can't wait to see how you look!"

"Me too!" Mom chimes in.

"Peeta has been wonderful to us, and he misses you so," Prim continues. "I'm sorry he isn't here now. I don't think we will be able to hold him together once he sees you. He kept everything from us, but I know he has been working so hard to keep us and you safe. They want us to keep this short so . . . I love you, sis."

"I love you too," Mom says. "Bye, see you soon."

"See you soon!" Prim chirps.

I murmur, almost in a dream, "Bye, Mom. Bye, sis." The tears start running down my face, and I sniffle.

Tess is crying as she hands me some tissues. "It's okay. Maybe we should all just cry a little. I think that would be a good thing to do now."

"They are going to be here tomorrow? Why not tonight?" I ask.

"Peeta thought you might need a little time to put this all together and make some decisions." Her voice has some extra meaning that I don't catch. "Peeta has arranged everything. Tomorrow morning they come, by noon you all will be on a transport, and in an hour's time you will be out of Panem and Snow's reach."

Trying to stop the tears, I say, "Where are we going?"

"Among other things, my family does trading with other countries in the world." She raises her hand to stop my question. "Yes, I know they don't teach you anything about the rest of the world. They like to make people believe we are alone on this planet, but there are other people and countries. Panem is the world's most advanced nation now, and many of the other countries are at war with each other, but there are a few good places. We are sending you to a good place. On the continent of Australia there is a stable, peaceable monarchy. We are sending you all there."

I know the name Australia, but little more than that. "Australia? You mean with kangaroos?"

"Yep, Peeta has bought a house for you and gotten you servants and enough money to set you all up. You will be perfectly safe there, and if one day the government changes and you really want to come home, we can arrange that too."

"I don't know what to say. Can I talk to Peeta now?"

She pulls back and sits up straight in her chair. Her eyes are steely as she says, "There's a problem we must deal with first. Peeta has always trusted me because I have never betrayed him, but today I finally find I must. You see, what he's doing won't work. We can make you disappear easily enough, but your sister and mother are celebrities now. He's pretending he can fool the government with a staged transport accident, but it won't work. Every part on a transport has I.D. numbers, and they will quickly know that they aren't looking at the right transport. He's smart—he knows this—but he just wants to get you and your family out safely, and then he will turn himself in. I can't do this; I love him too much. I'm not going to let him do this."

"He's just going to let them execute him?" My blood seems to run cold.

"It's the only possible outcome. He won't listen to me on this. I need you to convince him to do something else."

My head is swirling with all that has happened. "I don't know what to do. I need some time to think!"

Her anger bleeds through as she snaps, "You were supposed to go back to the district with Gale! We had a way all set up for you to be in your district and be able to see your family and even Peeta, but you had to force his hand!"

"I would have to marry Gale!"

"It could have been just a show marriage! Through a combination of blackmail and bribes we could have gained control of the PeaceKeepers in the district and protected you! Now look at where we are!"

"I'm sorry, but it would help if you would let me in on some of your plans!" I retort coldly. "So what now? You just want Gale and me to marry now?"

"It wasn't my plan to do any of this! This is all Peeta! He set down the ground rules for all of this! You try living with a suicidal genius who doesn't sleep and can't make up his mind who he wants to live with—or if we wants to live at all!"

She seems shocked by her own words. The room is dead quiet, and both of us don't know how to continue.

"I'm sorry. Is he really suicidal?" I ask gently.

She takes a big breath and tries to regain her composure. "He needs time—lots of time—to deal with all that happened in the last year. I do the best I can for him, but . . . it's impossible. I can't undo what has happened, and it has pushed him too far."

"He doesn't sleep anymore?"

"I'm told you hardly do either."

"I get an hour here and there, but not much anymore," I admit.

"He has some drugs that can put him out, but he hates to use them."

"We were close one time, weren't we?"

"Yes. And none of this would have happened with Peeta and me if weren't for us thinking you were dead, but it did happen."

I finally admit the obvious: "You love him a lot, don't you?"

"And you may have forgotten, but you do too. I think it's time for you to talk to Peeta!" She shocks me with her sharp tone and simply walks to the door.

I am still sitting on the coach when she disappears through the doorway. As soon as I get past my shock, I run after her.

I have to almost run to keep up with her as she walks down one hallway after another, until all of a sudden we enter a huge ballroom. It is full of golden chandeliers and lights and red carpets. On each of the three corners are huge elaborate stairs that lead to a whole series of balconies, three high above us, and in the fourth corner a stage.

Round one dining table after another we go until finally we reach some small doors on the far side. Soon we are in the kitchens, and it is a maze of tables and ovens with cooks running all over. Then we reach a big knot of people, and Tess finally speaks up.

"Excuse me, gentleman."

The crowd splits like she shot a gun, and I can see Peeta wearing a full apron covered with flour, pulling some pastries from an oven. He looks so handsome, his muscles rippling beneath his shirt, and seeing him in that apron reminds me of the boy who gave me the bread. When he finally looks up and flashes those blue eyes, he drops the shelf of pastries on the floor. Some of the other cooks jump at the pastries, but Peeta just stands there.

Without moving a muscle, he says, "I'm afraid I am going to have to leave you guys. Thanks for all your help."

With that he takes off his apron and straightens his clothes and hair. He grabs his coat and cane and finishes his transformation into the powerful image I've seen on the VIDs.


	40. Magic

**Magic**

Peeta and I sit in a weird empty indoor garden somewhere in this giant hotel. In the center of this garden is a huge banyan tree. Beneath the banyan tree it is dark, and the air is filled with strange, exotic smells and hundreds of calls of unseen birds and insects. Each of the hundreds of legs of the tree gather around the low flat stone slab, which serves as our bench and makes it very private.

How and why anyone would put such a large and bizarre garden in the middle of a hotel is a mystery, but the unexpectedly gruff way Peeta dragged me here is the mystery vexing me now. When I saw him I was so surprised, nervous, excited, impressed, and ultimately scared, but he seemed mad and just grabbed my hand and dragged me here without a word.

We sit right next to each other, so close I can smell his dark, rich cologne, but he hides his face, staring at the ground. I can see his back and arms and the side of his face, and that is about all.

I want to ask him so many questions. I want to tell him so many things. I want to believe in him, to believe he is what I think he is, a boy I would die for, but it is so hard to believe that. I finally manage the statement, "This is nice." I feel like kicking myself—it sounds so lame.

"Yeah, it's my favorite place in the whole building," he says quietly without moving.

I lean over and try to get a peek at his face. "I've never seen anything like it." I wait until I can't wait anymore and say, "Tess seems nice."

I can't see much of his face, but I see the corner of his mouth come up, and he says, "She's great. Much better than I deserve." Anger invades his voice as he growls, "I am in so much trouble."

"She's worried about you," I say slowly. "Are you okay?"

He finally looks up and smiles. Those blue eyes are so large and bright that I feel a thrill race through my body at the sight of them. Every hair on his head is perfect, his teeth so bright, his face almost glowing in the dark . . . wow!

"I'm fine," he tries to assure me. "She worries too much. Do you want to see some magic?" And without a pause he waves one hand in front of the other and a bright red rose appears in his hand. He gives a proud smile and hands me the rose.

I feel a blush coming on and wonder how anyone could play me so easily. "Thanks! Was that, you know . . . one of those mind tricks?"

His smile becomes a simple, shy grin. "No, just a simple sleight of hand. Oh, I have a trick you will like . . ." And with a flick of his hand a small white mouse appears in his palm. The mouse rears up, and for the life of me he seems to bow. Peeta says, "Tah-Dah!"

"He's so cute! Is he real too?"

"Oh, yes. Katniss Everdeen, may I present Mr. Magic, the world's smartest mouse!" Again the mouse rears up and looks right at me, and I swear he waves one of his paws.

Peet and I start laughing, and we can't stop. Through my newly formed tears I see Peeta put Mr. Magic down between us; the mouse goes into a waving fit, waving at each of us in turn. We both get down on our elbows to see Mr. Magic better.

Now with our full attention, he goes up on his back legs and starts dancing around and around. He's up on his back legs, swaying and circling as if to some wonderful waltz. We are both mesmerized.

I fight to get the breath to speak. "That's neat! What a wonderful animal!"

Peeta is finally able to say, "He's a gift from Tess. He's very special, one of a kind. I have a special pocket sewed into my coat for him." Peeta gives him a small food pellet. Then he gives me the rest of the pellets. Mr. Magic stops to eat, and he eats each pellet on his back legs, holding the pellet with both paws. I just love watching him nibble on the pellets.

"He's so cute! How smart is he?"

Peeta looks directly at the mouse when he answers. "I don't know. Mr. Magic, how smart are you? Are you as smart as a dog?"

The mouse puts down the food pellet I gave him and nods his head.

"Are you as smart as me?"

The mouse seems to manage a shrug. I laugh so hard I almost fall off the bench. I have never seen anything so cute in my life.

"He's wonderful!" I exclaim, grinning. "How can a mouse do so many tricks?"

Peeta's smile suddenly disappears. "They changed him. The same scientist that made the dog mutts that attacked us. They went into his body and changed him. You know, I can't let him near other mice. They sense that he's wrong and just attack him. I'm all he has." He puts Mr. Magic in my hand, and the mouse just curls up into a small furry ball, like he was tired from his show. He feels so warm, and I can actually feel his tiny heart flutter against my palm.

I understand what he means. "Like they did to us."

He nods. "I doubt there is any way we can be normal again, but we are alive. Look, you are way behind me, thanks to your doctor, but you must almost never use your abilities—every use is potentially fatal. We can't fool cameras or change memories, and people will put it together sooner or later. That is why it's important to know how to do magic tricks. You must learn to do magic to cover anything they notice."

"So you never do anything with those abilities except for following what I do?"

He gives a joking smile. "First off, it's you who is broadcasting so loud, but no, I wouldn't say that. The things I do are subtle. I never create things, just change them a little. I'm sorry. I didn't know I was going to see you, so . . . well, you'll see."

Suddenly I watch as his bright blue eyes dim and shrink, bags forming below them.

"Oh my god!" I can't help but yelp.

Then his skin pales, and the hair that was perfect all of sudden isn't; he now even has a little flour on his cheeks. I had been face to face with a perfect version of Peeta, but now I am sitting right next to the face of my dreams: my Peeta, the boy with the bread.

In my excitement I jump at him and pull our lips together. His warm lips become all I care about, and when we finally part I have to gasp. I bury my face in his chest and close my eyes to concentrate on the feeling of his strong arms around me. He holds me so tight, I just want to cry in relief. I am finally here. I am finally with Peeta.

I start to say, "Thanks! Thanks for taking care of Titus, thanks—"

He interrupts with "Shhhh . . . don't thank me. Just be with me for a while."

We lie in each other's arms for half an hour or so. I can feel his love come out in his hands and warm my whole body. We had become so much to each other. Then I finally say, "So you wear that mask everywhere?"

"Yep, it makes me very popular."

"So you make your eyes bigger and brighter, your teeth whiter, your hair perfect . . ."

"And an inch taller, more muscles, tanner, with cologne that never wears off, and a bunch of other tricks," he admits.

"Like what?"

He chuckles. "Oh, I remove shadows from my face, my eyes dilate like I'm interested even when I'm not."

"Must make you very popular," I tease.

"Too much many times." Peeta sighs. "These people are so easily swayed by looks."

I tease again with "So how do you keep the girls off you?"

He blushes and gets a big dumb grin.

"What?" I ask.

Through the blush and grin, he manages, "It's mean thing to do, but if they cause too much trouble I make them just feel a fart about to come."

I interrupt with surprise laughter, and he continues, "They'll stand there with a strained look on their face, trying to hold it in. If they last too long I make them give a big, loud fart. Nothing breaks the motivation of some overly excited girl like making her fart."

I laugh so hard, it's hard to say, _"Really?_ You make them think they _farted?_"

As his blush disappears, he starts to laugh too. "I mean big, ugly, stinky farts," he adds.

"Oh, Peeta, I can't breathe!"

Still laughing, he says, "I did it once to the president too!"

At the mention of the president, some of my laughter subsides. "You met the president? What is he like?"

"Oh, we've been together many times. I've even slept over at his place several times. He and I are really close—he likes me. What's he like . . . ? Well, he's charming, well spoken, brilliant, and psychotic with no real morality, and he believes the world needs a strong man to run everything or everything will go to hell. Anyhow, we were out by the pool and he was telling me how the Capitol kept the mines in District 12 open at a monetary loss, and he laughed at our people needing the mines to have a reason to live, so I made him give a stinky fart, and he ran off to check his underwear."

Once we finish laughing, Peeta slowly moves toward me, and I lean back, ending up on my back on the slab. He lies down on top of me, and I put my arms around him. I hadn't thought at all; I had just done what seemed natural, but, looking at the hunger in his eyes, I know I had just invited him to make love to me, and I am little scared—but just a little. I want this, but then something like pain invades his face.

"Peeta, what's wrong?"I ask urgently.

He gets up and just starts walking away. I think to myself, _Damn! I've pushed him too far!_ In a panic I say to his back, "Peeta, you forgot Mr. Magic."

Without turning around, he says, "You keep him. He's my gift to you for giving me today."

"Peeta, I remember a lot now. A lot I didn't before, and I promised to stay with you. Didn't I?"

Again without turning around he says, "I release you from your promise."

I get up and run up to face him. I force Mr. Magic into his hand. "No! Damn you, Peeta! I also remember being invisible too. I was the world's best spy. I remember I could enter any place, steal any secret, and no one could stop me. You are taking Mr. Magic back, I am staying, and you, me, and Tess are going to overthrow this whole freaking government!"

"Are you out of your mind? You have no idea what you're talking about! We don't even know if we can still do that!"

"Well, we are going to try!"


	41. Finishing

Should I finish this?

The amount of work that goes into some of these chapters is really hard to explain to anyone. I started this with the idea of seeing how good I could become. I said I would spend 5 years writing and see. The thing is I think I am much better now, well at least I like some of what I write, but here I don't get enough feedback to know. I haven't added a chapter in a while and maybe I should just end it here. If you think otherwise say something.

Anyhow if the story means anything to you drop me a review.


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